My French Love Addiction
by xlilslayerx
Summary: France is madly in love with his long-time ally and best friend, but she doesn't seem to understand his true feeling. All she sees his feelings as is the ordinary friendship. However, when Charlotte starts feeling strange and needing something more, she turns to her French companion for comfort only to find the feelings getting worse until it bursts. What's wrong with her? *Lemon*
1. Impossibily in Love

**PLEASE READ: This is a story of an OC who represents Australia. I know Australia exists in Hetalia, but this OC was made before I knew of the canon Australia. Please try to treat Charlotte/Australia as a separate character all together! **

***WARNING* Contains LEMON!**

* * *

As the gracious sun raised high in the succulent blue sky, the trickles of pure golden sunlight sprinkled down onto the peaceful land of England shimmering delicately the wonderful river that ran across the garden of a familiar grand castle. Inside lived the wondrous British gentleman, holding a subtle gathering of countries to enjoy their nonviolent times across the world. Almost every country had attended, bringing a lot of different gifts and stories from around the globe to each other. Everything seemed extremely serene with the exception of a few... loud countries who paroled with a barking voice, but still brought light-hearted amusement to the fellow nations.

The lofty doors of the living space slammed open, revealing a gorgeous new face to the pack. She stood tall and proud, striding self-assured into the excessively hefty room.

"G'day mates! I'm Australia, but ya can call me Aussie!" She winked confidently, pointing her thumb towards herself. Aussie had introduced herself positively with a grin that could easily conflict Italy's.

"Hey, dude! It's me, America the HERO!" America beamed, striding over with just as much confidence and mimicking Australia's hand gesture.

"Alright, Hero! It's been some time!" They high-fived, loudly booming their voices over everyone else's more subtle conversations. With a lot in common, the American and Australian got along with great natter, reminiscing as well as discussing. They had been great friends for some time, but hadn't had much time to meet up again since the Second World War.

"Dude, you should TOTALLY come skateboarding sometime! I bet you'll ROCK!"

"Ridgy-didge, ta! Ya should join me surfing as well! Bet you'll be a beauty!" They bellowed loudly, enjoying one-another's company interestingly, until the brunette and blonde were interrupted with another presence making his way next to the hamburger loving fellow.

"Hello, m'lady, it's been a while, hasn't it?" A striking blonde man smiled casually, and more quietly. Next to each other, it seemed as if the men were completely opposite in comparison; one suited up in a brilliant suit with the most elegant posture, whilst the other sloppily but cheerfully keeping his hands in a dark jacket without a care of how he looked towards others. England seemed much more of a gentleman, who probably could treat a lady to what she pleased, but America seemed more like the time to give a girl a fun time anywhere they were.

"G'day, England! Yeah, it's been some time; good ta see ya again!" She held one hand lazily on her hip while grabbing the rim of her baggy cork hat with the other. Much like America, she didn't really care for the poise of a formal greeting, or a lady-like gesture. She was confident and very cheerful, not as much for dignity.

"So, what business brings you over here, love?" England started up a friendly small talk conversation. America had already excused himself and caused a commotional parade before England could do much. The Aussie girl laughed whole-heartedly, flicking her bouncy fallow locks over her shoulder with a gleeful smirk.

"No business, mate, I was just in the neighbourhood when I ran into-"

"_Mon cherié_~!" A singing voice rang through their ears before the new woman was tackled from behind.

"-France."

"What are you doing talking to zis English swine? Would you not razher be with me instead,_ ma belle_?" France's tender hands dropped down to the curves of the brown eyed sheila, admiring her slender figure that was complimented incredibly by her plain white singlet and brown baggy shorts. His nose dived into her sleek neck, taking in an amazing scent of the ocean through her long flowing curls while humming in delight.

"_Oui_, Francis, but ya know I do want to get to know who else there is." She brushed off the taller man's velvety hands and smiled back at England, receiving a disappointed glare.

"Sorry, 'bout that, matey. I'm only 'ere to make sure everything's ripper. The bloody mongrel still thinks Francis is bit of'a clown ya see."

"Well, at least your 'bloody mongrel' – whatever that is – knows what they're thinking." England mocked slyly, smirking behind his hand.

"Hey! Zat was a little uncalled for, you British _crétin_."

"What did you call me, frog-face?" The Brit's composure was completely knocked down as his fists bawled up and his dazzling green eyes glared immensely over to the French. Bantering words and threats were quickly exchanged between the Europeans without any thought of the poor female standing between both. Being in between both men, Aussie felt a little compelled to stop them before a full blown argument started over her shoulder.

"Alright, lads, that's enough." She put her hands onto the chest of Francis, turning her back quickly onto England but smiling over her shoulder, "Cya this avo, England, good meetin' ya again." She waved him off, earning a 'huh' from the tea lover as she used her strength to push the Frenchman across the room completely caught off-guard.

"Ohonhonhon~ wishing for some alone time wiz me, no?" The blonde beauty grinned cheekily, amused by the girl's actions.

"In your dreams, bloody idiot." She countered, giving a slight wicked seep through her tone. At a far enough distance, she sighed and stopped pushing, rolling her shoulder greatly, "Ya know, ya weigh a tonne!"

"Zat's not very nice. Anyway, a _demoiselle_ such as you shouldn't be working herself so hard."

"Then stop getting yourself into stupid arguments." She sighed defeated. She was so used to France's ways, but it didn't matter, she always ended up worn out after babysitting him so much. However, in the end, she very much enjoyed being with France. Sure, he was a pervert, and sure, he always ran when in danger, but he was still a great guy and certainly could make her laugh. There was nothing that could really break their friendship, and certainly not by another country. They both knew that. She stopped her action and looked around curiously at the strange faces around her. Some she recognised, but some were completely new to her. In her search for some new people who looked like a good person to introduce, her bright brown eyes landed on one of her favourite places with a humble crowd enjoying themselves greatly; a bar.

Quickly, she escaped Francis's gaze and slid over to a stool beside a hefty looking soldier. He wasn't too bad looking. Actually, she had realised that if not almost, then all of the men here were pretty high on the attractive metre.

"A long neck for me, mate!"

The bartender turned to her, slightly astonished at the woman, but rather more confused at what she was asking. Catching on, she giggled and changed it to something he could understand better, "A beer, please."

"A beer for me too." The strong blonde beside her called after, sending a slight curious look in her direction. With a smirk, the willowy woman grabbed the handle of icy drink at the same time as the mysterious man. Without as much as a breath she downed the drink refreshingly.

"Another round!" Both countries called. They stared at each other as they got served again. And again, they both drank it down, slamming the empty pint onto the counter in satisfaction.

"I see you can handle a beer." The thick accent rolled off the tongue of the blue eyed chap. He had a daring smirk on his face which seemed to challenge her.

"Ya hitting on me?" She smirked mischievously sending the innocent man into a shocked expression. She chuckled and slapped his back hard, "Just getting under the house, mate. Think ya can find a better drinker than me? I say good luck to ya."

"Hm." He composed himself again, calling for another round, "I have yet to be beaten." Hinting a challenge, the Aussie sneered in delight, reaching for her third.

"Well, there's a first for everything. But first, at least le' me know who I'm up against."

"I am Germany. Still vink you can beat me?"

"Germany, huh? Oh yeah, I remember ya. I've heard 'bout you're drinking, mate. Hope ya can handle it against me, though." She half closed her glistering eyes in contentment, taking off her voluminous cork hat and dropping it on the counter, letting her messy waves escape. Germany glared approvingly, accepting the challenge she opposed. Fastly, they brought their beers to their lips, signalling the start of their drinking competition.

* * *

"**Bloody hell… they weren't joking 'bout you Germans..."** Australia slurred, whacking her head on the bar.

"Hm, I can z-till carry on." Germany smirked, slurring himself. Aussie picked up her heavy head and glared at him.

"S-so can I! I'm from down under, I can do anything-"She fell backwards off her chair, slamming harshly onto the floor with reddened cheeks. She could barely keep her eyes open, let alone have another of the bitter yet glorious drink. Her body felt slightly tingly, but she couldn't move from her fallen, drunken state, "You win this round, Germany, but mark mi words, mate, I'll beat ya next time!" She swore from the floor, getting a victorious smile from the larger masculine drinker.

"_Magnifique_... Now I 'ave to take care of a drunk?" A sudden lofty figure stared down above her head, crossing his arms disapprovingly.

"Francis... Were 'ave ya been?" She smiled trying to stand again, but failing miserably.

"Looking for you!" He snapped, "We 'ave to go now."

"But... but I don't wanna!" She whined, unwilling to leave without defeating Germany. Without warning, she fell once again, this time without a single word; just a quiet 'thud' as she fell into France's arms.

"Come now, Jarlotte, we-"France stopped mid-sentence as a heavy and consistent lullaby of breathing came from the fallen woman. He sighed heavily, picking her feet up and carrying her in his muscular arms, "You're not exactly light as a feazer yourself." He whispered icily to the sleeping woman. Still, he couldn't help but stare over her frame. She was a very beautiful woman, one who he deeply admired in both body and soul. If she wasn't so smart against his actions, he probably would have bedded her a few times by now. It was too bad. He would think of many ways of seducing her, but none worked, and even he wasn't low enough to have his way with her while unconscious when drunk.

"Well, we shall be going, England." He concluded to the host, ready to make his leave. He had already made his way around the party, getting rejected left right and centre in most cases, and found himself being quite worn out, but now he had to deal with her too.

"Oh my, is she alright?" England wondered concerned.

"_Oui_, she just decided to drink wiz Germany."

"Oh. Well, alright. Good night." The Frenchman nodded his farewell and headed out the door, into his car. Carefully placing the pass out female into the passenger seat, he strapped her in and took her back home.

Every now and then, France would check over her, peering at every small detail of his allied nation. Her fallow hair flowing delicately over her smooth skinned, tanned face, her tender hands resting comfortably on her trim, exposed thighs as the shorts rid up ever so nicely to show them off to him, and the way her singlet strap dropped lazily over her arm, showing just slightly the creamy tan line of where her bikini would have been if she was wearing one. Instead, her bra strap fell in place of it, all of its red lace uncovered as it patterned over the bare white of it. Damn she looked so sexy at the moment, but still France kept himself from doing anything he'd regret.

Still he wished for nothing more than to caress that silky skin of hers, take in that outstanding scent of her hair as he removed the hem of her top in order to kiss and lick her silky stomach... No, he couldn't be thinking such things right now. She was one of the very few countries that had stayed by his side through thick and thin, with a strong bond secured by a treaty. He couldn't just through it all away by giving in to his fantasies. But, he couldn't help but wonder what she'd look like without her clothes on. It wasn't too hard to imagine it; his experience and her choice in bikinis had always helped in that department, it was just the difference of imagining and actually experiencing that he wanted to witness. Her body close to his own, what sort of perverse noises she would make as he conquered her territory. What her luxurious mounds would feel like under his touch, how she would react to his touches, what expressions she'd perfectly perform for him, the taste of her lips on his.

He was madly in love with her.

He felt different towards Charlotte than he did towards the other men and woman he bedded. He ached for her, but not for sex. He ached to make love to her. There was indeed a different between the two, and he was fully aware of it. But the chances of her liking him back was very slim. They were as different as black and white, but it didn't mean a thing to him.

Finally, he reached the port of the boat that would take his car back to France. Unloading Charlotte from the seat, he carried her onto the same boat. He could barely keep his eyes from averting to her sleeping form every two seconds to make sure she was alright, not to mention to gape at her. How her sublime skin looked under the romantic moonlight made him wish her eyes were open just so he could see just how wonderful they would gleam with the stars reflecting in them like she was the dream of a perfect woman.

However, something seemed different about her as she slept. France couldn't put his figure on it, so instead shrugged it off as tiredness and stepped into a bedroom of the vessel. He hated that the bedrooms of other boats were so bland, so he had this particular cruiser decorated to his desire, which consisted of fabulous Victorian attire that sparkled gracefully. No one from inside this room could guess it was a boat. He placed the sound asleep sheila onto the queen sized bed, pulling the silken sheets over her delicately. Finally, France decided that he would spend the night with her, making sure that she was cared for until she was once again sober. So, sparing no argument in his mind, he slid around to the other side of the bed and draped his clothes off, down to his boxers, before climbing in with her. He couldn't help himself but to stroke her arm as it rested over her breasts. Her back was to him, letting himself tuck his body against her, until they moulded perfectly with his elongated arms stretched around to huddle her waist. With a smile grazing his soft lips as the scent he longed for entered his nostrils, he fell silently asleep.

* * *

**The Aussie stirred her aching** mind awake, forcing her eyes to open painfully and adjust to her surroundings. She didn't recognise the area at first, but calmed down as she remembered that it was the boat that she had ridden to get to England in the first place. It was Francis's boat, and her deluxe room that he had allowed her to linger in while they travelled. It only took a few hours to get from England to France, so being in the boat meant that Francis had taken her from England's to here...

What was she doing before she passed out? Let's see... She met America and England again... quarrelled with France slightly... then...Oh. The drinking contest with Germany. Damn, she drank way too much. But, at least she could remember seeing France above her head before everything went blank. Ah, Francis, you were much more of a gentleman than your reputation let them believe.

Wait a minute... That arm didn't belong to her! It's pale yet sleek skin felt magnificent to trace along, baring not much muscle but a phenomenal gangly and extensive limb that wrapped heavenly around her waist. She didn't need to panic, or to turn around to see who it belonged to. His lanky body pressed firmly against her back like a perfectly fitted puzzle piece, making her feel so safe and relaxed. She knew him well enough that he wouldn't have done anything as much as grope her while unconscious, but she didn't mind. France was different and she wanted his attention more than anything in the world. As much as she didn't want to admit it to others, she was deeply infatuated by the flirtatious French. She wanted to know how good of a lover he really was, if what they all say was true. She had her fair share of experience before, but none came close to making her feel anything near to enough pleasure. She needed something else... Something that would turn her head upside down and make her scream.

Her thoughts ran wild of everything she would do to him, getting her slightly hot and bothered as his scent glided to her, adding even more to her erotic fantasies. His body relaxed into her own, bringing the physical side of it all; what his body strength could do to her. Would he be able to give her everything she needed? She deprived herself hesitantly of the imagination that could have lead things too far. There was no way she could care for herself while the man she was fantasising over was right next to her, gripping her tightly, lovingly.

Suddenly, the same tight, loving grip removed itself away from her slim waist, leaving her exposed stomach to shiver at the cold night air that travelled through the atmosphere. She couldn't see much as her back was towards the elegant blonde, but by judging the reallocate in the bed, he had pushed himself up onto his hands, sitting up carefully so he didn't wake the 'sleeping' woman.

"Francis?" She called over to him quietly, just in case she was just imagining things.

"You are awake, Jarlotte?" He replied jadedly.

"Yeah. Ta' for bringing me back." She shifted her own body in order to look over to him, sitting up herself. At the sight, her blush hit its peak. He was sitting, lounging over with nothing but boxers on, showing his amazing abs under the delicate moonlight from a single circular window. His hair was messy from the sleep, but still framing his face stunningly, hiding away his weary sky orbs from the gawping Aussie.

"_Pas de problème_." He shifted again, this time leaning back onto his hands, giving an even better view of his well toned chest muscles. She wordlessly gasped as his hair swiftly glided back, revealing an astonishing distinction of his facial features in the faint lighting, and his eyes gleaming darkly like two sapphire gems of an expensive ring. She checked out his upper body some more, enjoying herself to the point where she had not realised the Frenchman staring at her with a devilish grin. Quickly, she diverted her embarrassed eyes to the bed, her reddened cheeks plastered on.

"You like what you zee, no?" She jumped back slightly but kept her mouth shut. He chuckled roguishly and leant over sideways so he laid on his hip and an arm.

"I like what I zee too." The single sentence flicked an odd switch in the brunette's mind, letting her blush fade away.

"Vain git." She pouted. France was taken back slightly in confusion but then left chuckling ever so slightly.

"I was not talking about _moi_." He leant further into her space, bringing his other arm towards her beautiful face, cupping her cheek so gently, like a rose that would wilt if handled harshly. He wanted to embrace her, kiss her so badly, but he had to resist for now. Taking thinks slow was defiantly something he wasn't used to unless he was in the act, or at least planning it, but he wanted to make sure she was fine with his advances first.

She didn't speak. Actually, it was more of that she couldn't speak. He was unbelievably sexy, she knew that, but seeing him like this in the flesh was breath-taking. She had seen him topless many times before when they went to the beach together but that was trivial compared to his pose right now. The way the light pleasurably touched his skin gave him a blue tint from the seas reflection, one that was impossible to compare to the glisten of his gem eyes.

"What are you zinking, Jarlotte? It is not like you to be so speechless, _mon cherié_." The cupped hand stroked through her glossy hair absent-mindedly, twirling a couple of locks between his even fingertips. He could feel just how silky her elongated strands were and it made him crave to bring it up closer, letting him have an even better grasp of its loveliness. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to control himself around her; just how much longer could he wait?

"I... I... Um..." She stuttered. That was really uncharacteristic of her; she was Australia goddamn it! She was the confident, care-free nation of the south, not some stuttering, blushing mess!

The Frenchman laughed again; she was so cute. It was a new side of her that he had never gotten far enough to see. Things were at least moving; maybe it wouldn't be too long after all. Daringly, he brought one of her strands to his nose, silently smelling its dazzling salty scent as he gave a very alluring smile with his eyes half shut. The hand he leant on had its weight budged in order to move closer to the frozen female and caress her other cheek, removing any fallow strands that dived into her amazing face. Her frame was the main thing he could see in the darkness, but he could still see how her hair was messed from sleeping, so sexily, as well as the redness of her smooth cheeks and the astonishing sparkle her enthralling brown orbs gave out just for him to witness. There was even a slight light that hit the wetness of her plump lips that made them look so attractive. How was he able to resist her for so long?

"_Ma belle fleur_..." He brought his head closer to hers, only stopping when their noses touched ever so ghostly, "_Je ferais n'importe quoi pour vous embrasser_." He whispered seductively, holding both of her wondrous cheeks. She still couldn't say anything; she could only switch her tender eyes from both of his. They only moved slight enough to make them twinkle gorgeously for the seductive country. He adored her.

Without any sign of resistance, France stared a while longer into her eyes, before exchanging them to her lips. Without a word, he closed his great sky eyes and the gap of their wanting orifice. She couldn't believe what was happening; in her wildest dreams was the only time something like this happened.

Just as the brush of his lips occurred onto hers, she snapped. Her hands pelted up into France's golden waves of hair and gripped tightly, pulling him in shock. He was only going to peck her without any funny business then leave, but here she was, yanking on his head to keep him in place. Was he wrong about her? Her lips wrapped nicely around his own, pressing down securely as she continued to add further pressure with each removed kiss, continuing the next one. France's eyes were wide open as he felt her body alter, making him fall back onto the bed. He certainly wasn't complaining as she lost control, he was just surprised that she would go so far. Her blush had disappeared from her radiant face and, looking up at her, he noticed that she was trying to hold herself back but failing miserably. It didn't matter though; she had done it now.

He brought his arms up around her lower back as her torso rested on his body extraordinarily, giving her a sign that he wanted to continue; that she didn't need to hold back. Having the woman take control was a little different for him; he was used to being on top so this was a new occurrence. Her legs bent to his sides, leaving her hips to hover over the wanting man. He didn't know just how far she would take things, so kept himself controlled. Although, it was showing to be a rather complicated task. Australia licked at his lips, feeling somewhat dejected when he teasingly kept them shut. However, he was no anvil. She had men do this to her a lot, and there were a few sure ways that would change their minds. Her lips parted from the unwilling country and instead she smirked in a mischievous way that made the wine lover feel slightly uneasy.

Already he felt as if she was going to be an experience of a lifetime. She darted down to the corner of his lips, and then started leaving butterfly kisses along his jaw, towards his ear, and nibbling at the shell gently. When she realised that it wasn't working how she wanted, she changed her plan and instead licked down his shell, pass his earlobe and down his neck, using only her tongue to feel where his sensitive spot was. As she ran over it, she heard him hiss in arousal, giving her the unintentional signal to bite right at that spot. She bit down hard, sucking it with strength that hurt faintly, but adding the extra pain just brought a lot more pleasure.

"Ah, Jarlotte..." He hissed under her actions. Suddenly, her mouth made contact with his again, darting her pink muscle to fight with his before he could shut his mouth again. He was stunned, but let her explore his mouth to her heart's content. All she could taste was that sweet luxurious French wine that he enjoyed as much as he did having sex.

As she explored, France felt that he needed to take a little control too. Pushing his knee up, he took over her hovering body as he used the joint to rub against her. To his pleasure and own stimulation, she moaned into the kiss darkly, causing himself to start losing control of his own actions. She parted from the kiss and sat up onto his knee, moaning and grinding herself in pure ecstasy. France certainly could feel his growing excitement as she humped him, but was taken by surprise as she stood up, removing herself from the bed.

"Is... Somezing wrong, _ma belle_?" He asked feeling let down and worried he had done something to upset her.

"Nothing's wrong..." She replied, searching through some of Francis's clothing. Finally, she found what she was looking for and turned back to face him. She sparkled with mischief as she pulled at the object in her hands, "I just wanna try somethin' a little different."

She climbed over so her legs rested to the sides of France's chest, making it almost impossible for him to get up. He didn't really see what object she grasped in the dark room, but became aware when she grabbed his hands tightly against the bed post, strapping them securely in place. He gasped slightly at the fact that he couldn't move his arms at all, but found himself even more turned on than usual. Once she was happy at the sight, she straddled the air, moving her hips from just above him so he could witness it all as she pulled at her singlet strap sexually. He could only pant as the same hand massaged her breasts outside the top, then travelled along her curves and grab the hem. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled the top up: revealing her slender waist, how those lavish curves stared perfectly at him; then revealing the red laced white bra from underneath, one he never thought he'd ever witness. What daring underwear she wore...

Still she continued putting on a show, but she could feel a burning sensation building up in her own sexual desire. She was badly tempted to sit on him, but she forced herself to tease both him and herself instead. His eyes darted over her breasts hungrily; it was obvious that he wanted to touch them waywardly. Thanks to the bondage, it was impossible for him to do so. She loved it when she made them wait to get what they wanted.

Her hands travelled down onto his bare chest, massaging around and licking in every place she desired. He breathed in heavily through his teeth, sucking in the cold night air to try and cool his heated body. Still she licked and licked all over his chest until she felt it was the right moment to bite down and suck, giving him many love bites. It made him groan in both pain and pleasure as she worked herself down from his upper body, tending and teasing all his needs. As she travelled down, taking her sweet time to reach his belly button, she continued her present action of hitting every arousing nerve in his lanky stomach, even the turn on spot he had just on his abdomen. God it felt so good, but he ached to touch her too; his mouth tingled just to use his own skills around her heated flower. As she traced her tongue along his boxer shorts, she teased with the elastic just long enough to make him buck into her stomach, before removing them down his lengthy legs and throwing them onto the ground.

She didn't continue; she just stared at the hunky male bound onto the bed, sweating and aching from plea and completely hardened by her actions. She took pleasure knowing she could do something like this to him. She could feel a knot tighten in her lower area as a slimy substance escaped onto her panties; damn was she turned on. Standing above him, she removed her shorts, leaving her in nothing but her laced underwear. The sudden cold to her butt made her shiver, but it didn't stop her from dangling her head over his pleading blue eyes, smirking happily as he tried to lift his head close enough to reach her. Feeling playful, Australia moved her hands over his head and swooped her breasts low over his eyes, letting herself sit on his collarbone and undo the lace that held them together tightly at the front.

He could easily tell just how turned on she was by the wetness of her panties resting on his chest. He could even feel the heat emitted from them as she played with her bra. Once off, her mounds were bare, hardened buds by the cold. He had never felt so wanting in his life. France was used to touching, feeling and desiring what he pleased, doing what he wanted to the people he bedded, not the other way around. Somehow, he still enjoyed the teasing; it would have brought an even better high when he could finally touch her.

"What do you want to do to me, France?" She whispered seductively, giggling slightly at his attempt to suck on the nipple that hovered just too far from his mouth. She lowered further, but only letting him lick at her cleavage and bury his head between them. His legs moved uncomfortably as his member twitched horribly.

"I just want you..." He answered, vaguely taken back by just how needy he sounded. Being brought down to this level was more than undignified, but at this moment in time he couldn't care less. She sat back up and turned towards his standing member, finally deciding that he had waited long enough.

On her hands and knees, she crawled backwards, tingling his body with her hair until she hovered over her desire. Her mouth was watering just by how much she wanted to take him all, and now her wish could finally be fulfilled.

She lowered her head and kissed around the base, licking just like she had done earlier, adding sexual groans from the Frenchman. He needed her badly, but still she took her sweet time. At long last, she grasped the member in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the eye and playing with the foreskin humorously. A louder moan was heard from France as he bucked into her fist, but resulted to her using the other hand to hold him down.

"Uh-ah, patience..." She purred, licking her lips sensationally. Patience she said... Patient was what he had been for so long, and he was losing his limit of control. After what felt like an eternity, she licked at his balls, taking them in as the hand around him began leisurely pumping, picking up speed as her mouth explored around. It felt amazing as her tongue rolled along the tip. Finally, Francis's wishes were satisfied, creating a loud cry from him as her mouth wrapped around his cock. With obvious experience, her tongue caressed around him from inside her oral cavity as the hand gingerly cupped his balls, applying pressure on the turn on spot behind them. Wow, she was _magnifique_... With ease her throat relaxed enough to take him fully in. This was even higher than ecstasy; he was being sucked by a goddess. The hand that locked his hips began massaging over his chest and body, once again finding his most aroused spots. She bobbed herself in rhythm, humming and doing everything she could think of to keep adding as much bliss as she could. She felt him pulsing in her mouth, telling her that it was time to stop.

"Ah, J-Jarlotte!" He called her, "Why did you stop?" He was extremely disappointed at the fact that he was so close to the edge but still safely on the ground.

"I can't let you go soft yet." She smirked, climbing back up to his tied hands. They were slightly red at the amount of movement that caused him to cut off some blood, but at least they wouldn't be for long. She slid the belt from his wrists, letting them drop numbly. After he adjusted his limbs, he began smirking devishly.

"Ohonhonhon, it's my turn, no?" Aussie didn't have a chance to reply. His tight grip slammed into her back as his body pushed her down, finally putting himself on top. His messy locks stuck against his sweaty brow, only making him look even hotter than before. His arms rested at the sides of her head, letting his lips travel down to kiss her passionately. There was no way he could control himself for as long as she did.

His own tongue rammed into her mouth strongly, causing her to gasp in pleasure and beg for more and more, but, to her dismay, he pulled back up quickly. His hands were finally normal again, which meant he could do as he pleased after all this time. With both hands, he touched down her bare chest tenderly, only skimming along the skin with his fingers as he drew circles around her ample breasts. They felt even softer than he had imagined, even more alluring than he had ever experienced. Harshly, he gripped them both, tweaking the nipples roughly with his thumbs as she moaned loudly. With a clouded mind he pushed his chin down into her neck, nibbling and licking just like she did, all around. However, he didn't focus just on her sensitive spot, but avoided it in order for some revenge. She tried directing him, but he just refused to completely.

"Ahh... Francis..." She growled. He was even better than she thought he'd be. His tongue flicked and drew on her with such talent that it was beginning to drive her insane. He pushed down lower, taking one of her rosy buds into his gifted chops and did what only sex idols could possibly do. She wanted him to take her clit with that tongue... What he could do with it was the most enthralling provocation she had ever experienced.

"Francis!" She cried even more, pleading for him to do everything to her. He smirked satisfyingly; for such a denominating woman, she had an unbelievably sensitive body. He removed his drooling muscle and flicked the nipple again with his thumb, playing like a child with a toy as he gave the same treatment to the other boob. She moaned stridently, arching her back in want, but still he took his time. He could understand exactly why she enjoyed having her partner squirm so defencelessly under her; it was a powerful and addictive thing.

After a while, he changed his plan, kissing down her slim stomach to her underwear and removing them eagerly so he could at last see the naked body of the girl from his wildest dreams. If he knew she'd be this good at sex, he would have told her his feelings years ago! There she was, bare, aroused, beautiful. Even more than he could ever have thought. She was like an Eve to his own pure garden of love, and he couldn't take much more of waiting. His lips kissed gently on her clit, letting her scream at the sudden touch after what could have been over an hour of waiting. The pink muscle of his talented mouth curled around the sensitive bundle of nerves, licking and sometimes nipping with enough pressure to make her pant and moan. In a pure high, his tongue forced its entry into her forbidden pathway.

"Francis!" She screamed with delight, making him find her most receptive spot and press as hard as he could against it from inside. She screamed as she became close; the knot getting tighter and tighter until... until...!

France removed his tongue and smirked to the confused face of the poor girl.

"_Revange_." He chuckled.

"Bastard." She whined. He sat up, positioning himself before her, ready to finally get what he wanted.

"Are you ready, _mon fleur_?"

"No!" She suddenly shouted, surprising the French. She pushed him away and climbed onto his lap, using her own hand to position herself on top of him. He grabbed her waist, understanding what she wanted, and slammed her down onto him, earning a gratifying moan from her. She moved her hips fastly on the lap of the astounding man as he pumped ferociously into her, gripping her hips so tightly that he began to cut into her pure skin. The screaming sheila couldn't keep up with his amazing speed; he was an untamed stallion that rode how he pleased, and she was the rider trying to maintain rhythm with him, but failing. But, that speed roughly penetrated her to the point of reaching cloud nine. She grabbed his locks with one hand and his back with the other, scratching him deeply with every pump that rammed into her. There was no way she could muffle her squeals, and absolutely no way she could have ever pictured just how much pleasure she was going to get from this man.

The knot in her stomach began to tighten again, this time so tightly that she could barely keep her senses. If it wasn't enough, she could even feel the pulsing of his member as her walls wrapped increasingly around it. They were both reaching their limits.

"Ah, Ah, Ah! Francis!" She yelled as she toppled over the cliff. Never had a man made her cum so hard before. A few more rough pumps to ride out the orgasm led France to reach his own.

"Jarlotte!" He called pulling her tightly into his body as he let his seed fill her up.

She felt him turn soft from inside, but neither made a move to remove themselves; it felt perfect and completely right to hold each other like this.

A few minutes after catching their breath, she climbed off of the saucy country and lay back down, leaving her body open to the world to cool.

"_Incroyable_..." She panted, licking her dried lips.

"_Oui_..." He agreed, lying next to her.

"I didn't think such a romantic man as yourself would be so rough." Australia admitted sheepishly, giggling.

"I never zought you'd be into bondage." They laughed and turned to each other, wrapping their arms around their bodies.

Australia felt as if she couldn't move for a long time; her tiredness was taking over as she relaxed into France's arms. She smiled to herself and dropped her eyes in pure happiness. Sure her hips hurt like hell, but she didn't care; she was just glad that she finally had enough confidence to show France just how she felt. Quickly, her breathing calmed and she fell back to sleep.

France stared up to the ceiling of the four poster bed, thinking of everything that had just happened. He had finally done what he had been trying to do for so long, but the one thing he wanted to say kept replaying in his mine.

"_Je vous aime_, Jarlotte." He slipped out. With a slight blush, he turned to her, realising that she had already fallen asleep again in his arms. Slightly disappointed that she didn't hear him, he mastered a gentle smile and kissed her forehead.

"I guess you'll find out anozer time."

* * *

**Chapter 1 of My French Love Addiction complete! Hi, I'm xlilslayerx, welcome to my story! I know, the chapter's long but that's how it's going to be throughout. The lemon isn't really good because I'm just starting, but I'm trying and hopefully I'll improve. :) Read and review please and let me know what you think~! :3  
**

**-xlilslayerx-**


	2. Drinking and Dates

_Knock, knock_

"_Monsieur France_? We 'ave arrived." The wealthy looking door of the luxurious Victorian styled room opened, revealing a colourfully dressed sailor of French linage addressing their traveller. Australia's eyes blinked open tiredly, letting her push her upper body up onto her arms and stretch.

"...Francis?" As her blurred vision returned to focus, she watched at the reddened mess of a man standing, staring at her from the doorway. Confused, she scratched her head and looked down. Even as she looked down, she found something else staring back at her; her cold-erected nipples open and bare for all prying eyes to see. Gasping, she covered them back over with her hands and shoo-ed the Frenchman away. Her face was flustered crimson, but her mind was racing; why the hell was she naked?

A sudden movement from her right made her remember the entire mess of that night instantly.

She actually did it. She had sex with France...

The blonde beauty of a nation turned his head up, shading his eyes from the painful sunlight that made its entrance to his awaking sky orbs. He smiled as he saw the chaotic fallow hair of the sitting woman, joining her in getting up.

"_Bonjour, Mademoiselle Jarlotte_." He grinned sweetly. She turned her head to her side, dropping her arms and revealing her poorly-covered breasts again.

"G-day, Francis." Wow... The rays of the rising sun did extraordinarily well to suit the enticing European as his smile sparkled only for her. With a twinkle in his eye, his gaze turned briefly towards her stripped body, examining every tiny detail he couldn't witness that night, before glancing back into the precious dark eyes of her.

"We're back at France, by the way." She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. Taking this opportunity, France eyed at her crotch, deciding fastly to place his head there and watch her from a different angle. The sudden pressure to her hip made her flinch, hissing at a strange pain that transpired, then turning down to face the eyes that carefully examined her from under her breasts. He smirked with a perverse strain.

"Last night was _stupéfiant_." He dreamily complimented. To her, that was close to an understatement, but she couldn't find the right words that could describe just how much she had enjoyed her time with France. His hand travelled up to his lengthy golden locks, flicking them so sweetly, causing them to tingle Australia's stomach eccentrically before caressing his own cheek with a sly wink, "Care for a zecond round~?"

"A second round with my hips? Gotta' be kidding me! I'll be lucky if I can even walk after that poundin'." She scoffed.

"Well if you didn't tease me so much, I would've 'ad better control and would've been nicer." He pouted back, sticking out his lips childishly. The slim sheila sighed defeated and lifted his head off her lap, allowing herself to slide out of the cover. Her delicate feet traced the wooden panels and forced her body to rise. However, as soon as she stood, her body tumbled down onto the ground.

"Are you alright?" France spun off the bed concerned, aiding to her side quickly.

"Yeah... I wasn't lucky after all." France swung her arm around his broad shoulders and helped her back onto her feet, letting her lean on him desperately and cling to his chest with the other hand.

"Ta'." She blushed finally seeing the stunning figure of her sex partner in the light. He was even better in the light; she could see exactly where his muscles defined, although he didn't have as much of a muscular body, but rather a sexy, lanky one. She preferred it that way anyway.

"I think I'll get in the shower... Can ya, by any chance, carry me over to the bathroom?"

"Only if I can join you."

"Keep your hands to yourself and it's all dan-didgeridoo."

"But zat's no fun! I can wash your back if you want me too... Along wiz zee rest of your gorgeous body."

"Somehow that makes me think that you're trying to find a way to clean mi insides too."

"I can do zat too!" His charming and very alluring voice tempted her - a lot - but she knew that it would have been a bad idea to trust him to not do anything funny. Still, what would the harm be in it? Maybe she could... No! Don't fall for it! She felt war going through her head between conscious and pleasure; and France could sense that she was thinking about it. He smirked, knowing that while she was thinking, he could easily lead her to the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom without her realising. So that's exactly what he did.

The sound of rushing water brought Charlotte from her battling thoughts with a shock. Her eyes travelled to the naked bloke testing the heat of the hastening waterfall before he turned around smirking devilishly; the same expression he gave her just before he seduced her. She loved that look on his outstandingly beautiful face.

"We 'ave to get 'ome soon, so I cannot do much anyway." He reasoned placing her into the tub fit for royalty and against the tiled wall. Climbing in next to her, France placed his lean arm next to her head and closed a gap between their soaking bodies, closing the floral curtain behind him blindly. Aussie could feel his heated breath on her bare back as he huddled against her under the running liquid. She tried again to keep her balance on her own two feet, but again, she fell, this time she fell backwards, right back into the peering pervert's chest. He pulled her up again, not letting go of her body in order to let her sustain herself, but still be propped up against him.

He grinned impishly, loving the fact that he would have full control over her this time around. He wouldn't do anything that she didn't want, but he would certainly do what he could to make her lose it like had had managed to do last night. He didn't really understand why she suddenly felt so horny, but he did understand that she had an extremely sensitive body; one that could be used to his advantage.

He began.

First, he grabbed the shower gel, massaging her shoulders effortlessly, touching over her responsive parts with force, but still only massaging. She sighed pleasantly as his smooth hands ran its course over her pleasurable skin, pressing down in circular motions over and over, making sure to hit every little detail around her upper chest and shoulders. The soaping bubbles glided slowly down her beautiful body, covering every part of her silken skin.

"I can s-still use my hands, France, ta'. Y-You don't n-need to wash me." Her voice disagreed desperately against her actions, telling France a subliminal message to continue just how he was. Taking the hint, he nudged her hair away with his nose in order to uncover her ear. She breathed deeply as his talented fingers caressed her carefully; hitting all the parts that drove her to that daunting cliffside she was drawn to, wanting to climb it every time she passed it. If it wasn't enough, his gracious lips gently touched over her ear shell, nipping it so controlled and loved. He began licking the falling drips of water from around her shell, sending strange shivers over the girl's spine whilst gaining the salty yet succulent taste of her sweat mixed in with the purity of the shower water.

"I-I knew I sh-shouldn't of trusted ya."She whined, trying to regain the rhythm of her normal breathing. He stopped going around her lobe, instead using his precious pink muscle to lick around the inside, just before her ear's entrance, and then come to a standstill with a slight husk in his whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She couldn't answer him. If she said yes, she'd lose against her body's desire, but no meant that he had won. Either way, there was no way she wanted him to stop now. The unanswered question rung in her ear as he kissed along her jaw and neck, sucking the salty water off of her receptive points with much less force as yesterday, but much more passion. The hands massaging her shoulders decided to move along down her curved back, dexterously moving over her spine and blades, skilfully down her curvy sides and butt. He had a lot of practice; she could tell – every diminutive movement he done made her want to bellow in contentment. Why did he have to be so addictive? On her butt, he squeezed tenderly, allowing her to moan quietly. Everything he done was perfect on her tender figure; he was a drug that she had gotten captivated to on the first dose.

One of his hands remained flattened against her well rounded ass as the other followed its path back up to her curves, but changing directions to her stomach instead. With his fingers dancing along down onto her thigh, the others dancing towards her breasts, her gasps became much more audio-ed. Nothing was stopping him now, especially not her. Finally, the pace of his hands sped slightly, reaching to grab the first of her abundant chest as the other drew small lines across the top of her thigh, ever so close to her wanting heat.

"Jarlotte..." He purred huskily into her ear, "You're so beautiful." His lips touched back down onto the base of her neck, kissing it as tender as kissing a baby's cheek, as he let his fingers run wild over her. She couldn't say anything; she was too out of her senses as the delicate touch blessed her wondrously. She always had enjoyed having rough sex, so having such an affectionate and adroit man such as France do all sorts of things across her aching frame brought her over to a different high, but still one she enjoyed particularly.

The speeding water pelted against her chest as she leant her head back into France's, giving him a brilliant view of her chest. He grasped it sweetly, playing with it much kinder than he had earlier; this time he was back in control of his sanity, so he could focus on pleasuring his partner much better than thinking of himself. The one thing he cared for the most was making sure she felt good.

He pushed her forward, putting her hands against the wall containing the shower head and leaning her away from him again. Although her legs were still shaking and ready to give way, he tried to keep her steadily upright as his fingers penetrated her blossom. With two, he repeatedly impelled her entrance, with another, he stroked along her clit caringly, letting her groan and collapse further towards the support her hands, and now her forearms, rested upon. He quickly noticed something was different about her flower, finding that it was already filled with a liquid that did not belong to her. Francis removed his fingers and inspected it silently, finding it running down her trim thighs as he pulled out.

"It looks like we will 'ave to clean your insides too after all." He smirked as she panted, deficient. She turned her head around with half shut, ardent eyes. Using his other hand, France grabbed the chin of the laboured breath female softly, pulling at her lips to open them. She couldn't register what was going on; she was still in a daze from his experienced handle. Only swiftly he pecked her open luscious lips, and instead placed his soaked fingers onto her tongue, letting her gain every last taste of his cum from the night before, when she decided not to continue to taste it in the first place. Instinctively, her lips closed around them, licking hungrily over them and in between, taking everything he tasted in. It was a divine taste; one that made her crave for more.

As soon as he pulled his fingers out again, they re-entered into her, opening her up and letting the rest of his seed pour out as his own jaw locked with hers in a loving dance between their tongues. She panted desperately as he hit her g-spot over and over using his gifted, extensive tips to rub her all around, both inside and out. There was no preventing her stomach from tossing over as she felt herself once again cumming over him; what he did to her wasn't even human. It was flipping ecstasy! Her huffs and moans sped up increasingly to the point of no return as her orgasm reached, snapping the tightening rope from inside in pieces and screaming. Why didn't she start this with France sooner? He certainly knew the works.

The shower's searing hose hit France's brow kindly as he removed his fingers again, this time to stay out as she composed both her breathing and her body for the second time that day. He was very much satisfied at his work; satisfied enough not to need a returning favour from her, and instead letting her finally wash herself down as she had wanted to do in the first place.

"Now I can see why you're so popular..." She breathed, collapsing down onto the tub floor. France couldn't stop himself from chuckling at her gratification filled features.

"I'll get your clozes ready for our journey 'ome." With a very faint nod from Australia, he pulled open the curtains again and climbed out, taking one last look at her as she sat in a frog-like position, her legs opened wide to help her orgasm calm down, before turning to the towels, grabbing himself one and heading back into the bedroom.

There was nothing better than sharing a morning with another to France... or a day... or night. But to actually have someone he loved was completely different to just ordinary sex; it was more satisfying. He found it strange however, she had never shown any sort of interest in him before, but now she's accepting his advances as if they had been up to it for years. Well, he had been trying for years. It was terribly unfortunate that their homes were on the opposite sides of the world; who knows what he could have done if they saw each other more often?

He stared out of the window as he rapidly dried his platinum locks, smiling nostalgically as his homeland came to view. Ah, France was such a magical country, one that he was very patriotic to. The country of love as they said with the wondrous smells of gorgeous French cuisine from all around, the joyous faces of happy couples everywhere the eye could see, beautiful French music blaring through from the streets as the same couples watch the performers, some even joining to dance along at their fantastic playing skills. He could even taste the atmosphere of home. Why did he even leave this amazing country to go to boring Britain anyway? There was nowhere he enjoyed more than France. Before he got lost in his own little world, Francis turned back away and headed over to the drawers of his guest's clothing, pulling out all he found suitable for the luscious _bébé_ to wear in his homeland. However, he was left disgusted at her choice in clothing; they were so bland! All she seemed to consist of was her military clothing, her singlets and shorts, some bikinis and surfer suit, and... '_Allô! What is zis?' _

Australia turned the taps back off, using every part of her strength to keep her from falling over again. Damn that sexy Frenchman, doing all that to her even though she had made it quite clear that she didn't want him to. No, she didn't regret it; she just wished that he wasn't so bloody attractive. Those fingers of his were a blessing and a curse now that she had experienced just exactly what he could do first hand.

She stepped out of the bathtub and pulled out another towel, letting it hug her tightly around her moist body. There was a single full length mirror in the corner of the richly designed room that was fogged up completely, so she wiped it down carefully and stared at her wrapped body with scrutinizing eyes. She knew that she had an attractive figure, but she still felt extremely ordinary compared to how absolutely beautiful the other female countries were; so why did France focus so much on her? Now that she thought about it, he hadn't flirted very much with the female countries, only the males. It was strange, but she didn't ponder. He only wanted her for sex and she knew that; it was the only reason she wanted him too. She didn't love him, he didn't love her, and it was only the pleasure of two people.

Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to be in love; she had never felt it before and was beginning to wonder if she would ever find someone to settle with. After all, she was a woman first, then a country. But, at her age, she wanted to mess around; there was nothing better than experimentation and there was no way she was going to get tied down any time soon, if she ever found the person to be tied down with that was.

Her hips swayed painfully as she walked back into the bedroom, getting a good eyeful from the loveable pervert while sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him once again.

"Jarlotte..." He purred questionably. Something shivered down her spine as she listened to his voice dripping with ardour, "You really are a lot different to what I expected." His accent was thick and very playful. She turned her body to face him with a, at first, questionable look, but then a horribly embarrassed gaze when she saw exact what he was holding between his fingers.

"A babydoll like zis? How _érotique_..." He chuckled his stereotypical laugh, eyeing the black negligee with delight. It was very skimpy with a translucent floral pattern over the chest, with her favourable lace drooping down diagonally from the large bow in the centre of where the cleavage would be, pulling her breasts together tighter. It was certainly something she shouldn't have brought with her in the first place, but she should have expected France to get a hold of it.

"So it says 14C here... Zat will be 95D in France, no?" He slyly gazed over to her cherry red cheeks. Why was she getting so embarrassed? It wasn't like no one had ever seen her lingerie before, or her wearing the same spaghetti strapped babydoll he held. But she didn't want him knowing her bra size; what sort of sexual and erotic clothing will she receive as presents from him now? Forgetting her hip pain, she threw her body across the bed to try and reach the gown before he got any strong ideas.

"Give it to me, Francis!" She swiped for the clothing, mistakenly letting go of her towel without realising. He stepped back, quickly gazing to her uncovered side. Only half of her body was uncovered, which meant the towel fell alluringly in place between her cleavage and between her thighs. Her hair was still very wet, as well as her body from the shower, meaning small droplets ran down her skin gorgeously while her hair clung down over her nipple and across the bed chaotically. He could almost have sworn there was blood dripping from his nose just by looking at her, but that would have been impossible, right?

"Ohonhonhon~! Such a naughty girl! Was what I did for you not enough?" He winked.

"Ya know what I mean!" She scowled, not amused. What he had done was much more than enough, and hopefully she'd be able to get it from him again as soon as she felt her hips were able to take it. Of course, she would never admit it to him.

"You'll 'ave to be nicer if you want it." He ran across the room, clutching her lingerie tightly to his chest, playfully avoiding her as she tried everything she could to chase after him. There was no way he was going to let her win easily.

After a few minutes of cursing, failed running, and lose of breath, Aussie had enough of trying. She grabbed the bed post as she stood on her, now fully dried, legs and huffed, thinking of the best solution that wouldn't mean another seducing technique. Well, at least not for this moment in time.

"Hey, Francis." She leant closer to the bed post, running her finger slowly up and down the design with a very sexy glint in her eye, "If you let me have my babydoll back, I can wear it just for you... And I'll let you do whatever you want to me." She managed to get him to stop at least, but he didn't seem at all convinced.

"'Ow do I know zat you're not lying?" She dropped the rest of her towel, revealing it all to him. She excruciatingly placed her foot onto the bed, covering her womanhood as her arms stretched upwards of the wooden post. Her back curved, making her lean away and push her breasts out, but push her flower in.

"You'll just 'ave to trust me. There is a lot that I'd be able to do just for you~" At this moment, France was very willing to take the chance. Resisting her as she positioned herself to pole-dance? There was no way he could! He stepped back up to her, handing over the sexual clothing with a perverted glance. She slowly removed his grip, pushing her face forward so it was only a few inches away from his, licking her lips sensationally, before yanking the clothing away, as well as herself. She laughed manically as he blinked back into reality.

"_Méchant_! You said I should trust you!"

"And ya listened ta me, for once." She laughed, packing it back into her suitcase, "I'll do it, but I never said when."

"So mean!"

Charlotte grinned at her work and got herself dressed in her usual brown shorts and plain, this time an off-pink, singlet with a pair of underwear that was unfortunately chosen by France after some whining and argumentive persuasion; at least she managed to convince him against the babydoll.

"We should get going, Francis. This is my last day before I 'ave to return ta mi 'omeland." France frowned as she reminded him. They had only just started getting physically closer and now she had to leave.

"Could you not convince your superior to let you stay for longer?" He asked with a hint of disappointment.

"Afraid not, mate, I've already overdone it." She was just as sad; it had been so long since she had been with France, and even longer since she had seen some of the other countries, but now she had to return to her island away from the Europeans. But, she vowed that she'd see them again soon, even if it meant bringing them to her. Too bad her bloody mongrel was such a strict bastard or she'd leave more often.

"Well, let's go 'ome then. Maybe we can enjoy ourselves for zis last night togezer~."

"Just le' me be able ta walk next morn', okay?"

"Zere are no promises."

She rolled her eyes and headed out.

* * *

**France fiddled with the lock **and opened the door, allowing his female partner to enter kindly. Just looking over the splendidly decorated mansion made all sorts of jealousy enter the Australian, but still she absolutely adored his taste; maybe she should ask him to decorate her home at one point. Then again, she had been telling herself that since she first met the sharp sailor back in the 18th century.

They closed the door behind them and glided into the living room. France quickly sorted manners as he opened the expensive _bleu_ drapes and pour out some _vin rouge_ for himself and his guest, getting comfortable on the gorgeous sofa and patting a seat next to him with a sly wink for the fair-haired beauty to sit.

"I'm going ta take mi stuff into your room." She said without any sort of discussion to the matter. Of course, she already knew that he would have no sort of objection what-so-ever. She just didn't want him to get her tipsy enough to try anything again. Sure, she was defiantly no light-weight, but he just had his ways of getting her to do everything that could lead to his wondering hands. Aussie sighed and walked out, only to hearing the knock of the front door. France scowled, but removed from his seat to find out who disturbed his quality time with his favourite woman.

"Ah, _bonjour_, come in." She heard him address the guest. She couldn't hear who else was with him, but the way France had begin cooing and whining, she had assumed it was someone familiar. Was it someone she knew? She hoped so; it would have been nice to keep someone who could protect her from Francis's attempts. After placing her belongings into the unbelievably breath-taking bedroom, she headed back into the living room in order to answer her wondering question. Before she could even look at the mysterious person, the front door was forced open, revealing an extremely familiar cutie.

"Big brother France!" He called, laughing with a care-free grin. He pelted over to the older man, hugging him with force.

"Italy! It has been a while, no?" France smiled back, patting his head caringly.

"Italy!" Australia gasped. Her eyes were bulging out of her sockets as his arms dropped from the Frenchman and turned to her instead.

"Big sister Australia!" He screeched, flying into her open arms and giggled with delight.

"Wow, it's been so long! Look how much you've grown!" She grinned, pulling his head into her chest with compassion. She didn't realise just where his face was buried, but France certainly did.

"'Ey! Zat place is reserved for my face only!" He scowled, trying to pull Italy away from her bosom. Aussie didn't take any notice to France, but held onto her younger, much cuter friend tightly. They weren't siblings, or related in any way, but when she had more time to see France, she had seen Italy too. She would always care for him and make sure that he was safe, especially from France, and covered his innocent ears every time he tried teaching him something he didn't need to know at his tender age. How much she loved his smiling face and his wonderful paintings. Italy and France had painted together on a few occasions before and she was very impressed on how talented they both were. She wanted a sibling like Italy too, which is why she loved to see him so much.

A sudden clearing of a throat brought the gleeful brunette out of her reminiscing world. There before the three was another figure: a tall, well toned, blond, lightly dressed man. It took a few seconds, but Australia quickly remembered just who it was before her.

"Ah, Germany, G'day, mate. I didn't see ya there." She greeted him, finally letting Italy out of her chest, and push France away before he tried replacing Italy.

"Yes, Guten morgen." He replied, standing straight with dignity. There was something about the German which was quite attractive, although he shared the same sky eyes as France, and almost the same coloured hair, he was nothing like the loving loser.

"I just vanted to give you this." Germany held out his right hand, showing a baggy piece of rounded cloth with some corks attached to string around the brim of it.

"Mi hat! Ta'! I was wonderin' what 'appened to that little blighter." She beamed, reaching out for it. Grabbing it, she threw it comfortably back onto her brow and winked with a casual pose. There was nothing better than her keepsake hat.

"Vell, that vas all; I have to get going as I am very busy." Did this guy really put up with Italy? They seemed almost completely different! They say opposites attract, but this was more than just a perfect example!

"Wait, Germany. Ya sure ya can't stay for a long neck? I can't let ya 'ave victory over me just yet!"

"Vell... Maybe one pint before I go... But I von't challenge you whilst at France's. I don't trust him enough to do that."

"If you're going to be rude, you can leave!" France spited. He always got worked up when he was insulted, but he tended to get insulted quite often.

"Alright, maybe next time. Let's just 'ave a talk over a long neck then ya can do what ya like. Italy, ya joining us?"

"Sì! Maybe I can make some pasta while I'm here."

"There isn't enough time for that, Italy." German scowled like he was taking care of a small child.

"Oh Ludwig, there is always time for pasta!" Italy ran out into the kitchen, soon followed by the acquaintances and an ignored France from the back.

"Ludwig, huh? Mind if I call you that?" Australia politely asked, checking over for an approval. Germany turned to the brunette, diverting his gaze only slightly as she said his name.

"Oh, sure. But I vould much prefer Germany vhen in vorld meeting or any other business matter."

"Yeah, alright then. Mine's Charlotte." Germany nodded with a small grunt. As they walked into the kitchen, Australia pulled out a beer bottle she had kept for her sake while with France on her trip and gave it over to the lofty man.

"Francis, can you get my wine for me please, mate?"

"Even better, I can 'ave a sip of my wine and then let you drink it from my mouth~" He winked, swishing his own glass of pure wine in his hand. Australia turned to him with a very embarrassed, sharp glare.

"Not while there are guests, France!" She snapped her cheeks flustered more than she had wanted.

"Oh, so after zey are gone?" He smirked; she was far too easy to set up.

"No! Ya know what? I'll get it myself." Quickly, she stormed out in hope to take the awkward atmosphere with her. France just laughed at her easy blushes as she passed. With a quick pinch of her butt, she yelped and hit him on the arm, fastening her pace as she went into the living room.

"_Elle est si mignonne_." France took a sip of his glass and smirked. Germany and Italy didn't say or do much; they were use to what France got up to by now and had to deal with it themselves every once in a while. However, he had only tried hitting on Germany once... it didn't end well for France. And of course, now that Italy was under his care, France didn't try anything on Italy either.

Once Charlotte had returned with her liquor, she, Germany, Italy and France begun merry-making, with Italy eating some pasta, Germany having a beer and France doing everything perverse to Australia, making her very embarrassed with each antique; she did end up trapping herself in a corner quite often after all.

* * *

**They watched casually as their guests took their leave, **smiling, waving, saying that'll they see them again soon. It was slightly saddening for the Aussie; she hadn't seen Italy for so many years, and Germany was showing to being a good man, despite his menacing appearance. That was the last straw; there was no way she was going years without seeing her friends again: a party was to be sorted as soon as she was back in her home country. It was rare that anyone came over to her place, besides France and her little sister, New Zealand, so maybe a barbie was in order.

The magnificent door was closed nicely, leaving the brunette alone once again with the pansexual fiend. Hopefully he wouldn't try anything too daring; she was still calming down after his actions that morning. Was it even possible that she was still twitching from her orgasm? Bloody Frenchman; he really was a drug. Instead of grabbing her like usual, the glorious blonde just walked back over to the settee without a single word, letting his partner follow him oddly.

"So, France, since its mi last day, what do ya wanna do? Besides you're usual that is." She kindly pointed out, hoping for something different. Many times she had been on a tour of his nation, but still she found something new to discover. However, she didn't feel like walking much today, so a tour seemed a little too much for her.

"I was zinking more of a fine table, wiz rose petals scattered around and a candle lit for two." He smiled, taking the Aussie by surprise.

"You wanna take me out for dinner?" She questioned, stunned. That had never happened before, and it sounded truly amiable.

"No, not take you out. I shall cook for us both, and enjoy our time togezer on the balcony under a beautiful full moon." He sighed as his own dream world sparkled into his eyes. Francis wanted to cook for her instead? That was so wonderful. She very much enjoyed the stunning man's cooking; he was one of the best chefs she had ever known! Her own smile reached across her lips delightfully.

"Sounds amazing."

"Zere are two condition though," He continued, getting full attention from her, "_Un_: You must not see what I 'ave planned until I say so." Charlotte raised a neat eyebrow at his condition, but nodded anyway.

"_Deux_: I want you to wear somezing formal; somezing zat will make you look like a million euro." This condition made her back-up.

"Somethin' formal? I don't know... I don't 'ave anything like that."

"Well, why don't you enjoy some shopping in our beautiful _boutiques_? Zat way, I can sort everyzing here for when you return."

"I... I guess there's no 'arm in it."

"_Grand_! Zen, be ready at _huit heures_. We shall not cross pazs until! _Au revoir_!" Suddenly hyped up at the date, France took off in a shot over to the balcony to begin preparations. Unlike France, Australia was more laid-back, intending to leave only when it suited her. After all, she still had five hours.

Although the crocodile-fighter had her own womanly side, showing a habit of enjoying shopping, she had always had someone to go with her; she was useless at choosing clothing without the second opinion of someone who had taste. Maybe she should call someone to go with her... But who? France was usually the first person who would help her, but due to circumstances, he wasn't available. Hm... no-one came to mind. Guess she'd have to go alone. Well, Britain was an option, but somehow clothing chosen by Britain may have been a bad idea when having dinner with France. She could have tried Poland but somehow she figured he'd probably wind up buying clothes for himself rather than help her. Sighing deeply, she picked herself up and stretched, getting ready for a panic-y spree.

* * *

**Now then... she would need: **a formal outfit - a dress preferably, some accessories – jewellery and a pair of shoes. There was no need for a bag or a jacket; they were eating in. Also, this outfit was probably only going to be worn the once, so a reasonable price was in order too. Damn it, why did France have this condition? She would have preferred it incredibly if she just wore her singlet.

The French sun fell behind the distinctive horizon beautifully as she wondered around the high street of the wondrous country of her friend. There were so many casual people laughing, flirting, carefree, but she wasn't one of them. Although the Aussie did enjoy shopping when she wasn't either surfing or exploring the outback, she wasn't too happy about being alone to do it. If only her little sister was with her on this trip; at least she would have kept her company. Charlotte threw her hands into her pockets, ignoring the strange stares she got from the couples; she stood out like a sore thumb with her clothing. Oh well, she couldn't care less. Turning her gaze, she looked over and over at each store, deciding whether or not it would be worth going in or not, mostly being not, until one in particular had a very elegant looking dress displayed. It was beautiful; with a gorgeous red cover over the chest area until hitting the hip, then replacing it with black to knee-length. It didn't have any sleeves but that was okay; it's not like they were an important essence. So she entered, looking particularly for that one cocktail gown. Finally, she found it. She could feel that the fabric would clutch to her curves and the low-cut would show her cleavage, but she wanted to try it anyway and was pretty certain that Francis would have approved if it done as such.

"Let's give it a shot..." She whispered, picking it up, ready to head for the changing booth.

"Charlotte?" A foreign accent loudly broke into her ears. Aussie turned around swiftly, clutching the graceful frock tightly to her chest. Before her was another familiar person; with shiny dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes shaded carefully behind a pair of designer glasses.

"Oh, g'day Alfred! What brings you here?" Aussie wanted company, but perhaps America wasn't a good idea. He didn't know much about fashion, and the fact that she was getting ready for a date was...

"Actually, I was on my way to France's; I needed to speak with him." There was something strange about the way he spoke; he wasn't loud and obnoxious; he was calmer and less hyper. She didn't like this at all, "Then I saw you in here and thought I'd say hi!" However, his normal nature addressed her again as he spoke about seeing her again. It wasn't a secret; they had been close before and their time away from each other was quite obvious to others. He had his ordinary hero laugh and hit her on the back, scrunching his eyes into his happiest look.

"So, what'cha getting such a formal dress for? You hate wearing things like this unless it's been requested."

"Right on the dot." She smiled back, looking down at the dress, "It was requested by France since its mi last day 'ere, mate." Charlotte wasn't about to lie to Alfred; there was no point to.

"Oh? You on a date with France? Where is he then?" The handsome teen searched around casually, raising an eyebrow when he couldn't see him.

"Back at 'ome; he wants me to surprise him for a dinner tonight. So, I'm alone at the mo'." America travelled back to her, dropping his arm from her slender shoulders.

"Well, I haven't got to see France yet, so I'll stay with you!" His toothy grin was one that could break any lonely-feeling gall into their own wide beam.

"Ta'! But ya sure? I mean, after all the last time we went shopping was when-"

"Don't worry about that." America's smile faded down to a sincere smile, folding his eyebrows together. He didn't want to be reminded about that, so stopping her talking about it was the only way, "You can't decide things on your own anyway."

"True..." She sighed, matching her features to his. Suddenly, his broad arm pulled her along towards the changing room.

"Come on now; let's see what that dress looks like on you!"

He shoved her into the small closet-like cubicle and waited patiently outside. Her head and feet were visible behind the door, but the large door covered her body kindly from prying eyes as she took off everything but her panties. They were the last thing she wanted America to see, especially after the fact that they were chosen out by Francis. Quickly, she noticed just why her hip had hurt so much; dry blood was visible from the scratches of France's nails digging into her. She pulled the tightly fitted outfit over her smooth legs, up until it rested nicely over her uncovered breasts, supporting them once again with the padding, and zipped up the side. There weren't any mirrors inside the cubicle, so she stepped out and showed herself off in front of the hamburger-lover. There were no words he could describe the perfect combination of the amazingly hot woman in that danger-zone dress. Her BWH had the most attractive figure, one that was not either too little or too big, with her dazzling silky hair that bounced in waves over her bare shoulders and down her luscious back and to top it off, her lengthy model-like legs that stroke the poise of her natural beauty until they hid away under the hem of the dress. Her tanned skin gave away the most sensational glow that could have made even goddesses bow down through jealousy. It was a perfect fit, and America couldn't stop himself from being speechless for the first time in a very long time.

"Well, is it okay?" She asked nervously. There was a mirror a little further down the store, so without a word from her shopping partner, she headed over to check herself out. She was followed by Alfred, getting some approving glances by other men following her brilliant body. Finally, she could see for herself just how gorgeous her look was. Charlotte gasped at herself; she looked amazing! Never had she placed on a dress like this; with some make-up and a pair of silhouettes, she could pull it off perfectly. She turned around, staring at her behind in hope that it didn't look too off-putting and big, but to her pleasure, she looked great from the back too! She giggled and smirked with a cute blush, taking the price tag that hung at the side into her hand.

Her jaw hit the floor. Th-Th-That much? The white of her eyes could be seen, but the paling of her face began to camouflage it all together into an un-readable expression. America snapped out of his flabbergasts and stepped up to her.

"Yo, Charlotte dude, what's up?" He removed the tag from her, not letting her move a millimetre as he checked himself. As soon as he read it, his own face symmetrised, paling unbelievably.

"Maybe another dress... This one doesn't suit me anyway..." Charlotte finally formed some words, drooping her body as if there were no bones left in her arms. It was way too much, no matter how much she loved it. America walked alongside her, checking out other outfits that she could possibly wear; ones that didn't cost the same amount as his entire country. Who could afford something like that on a one time outfit?

She changed back into her comfortable casual wear and headed out of the shop; it was a very expensive shop as America had realised. She felt so down about it though; that dress had everything she could have wanted for a proper wear but the bloody price just had to be completely implausible. Alfred could see this straightforwardly.

"Don't be upset, dude! There are plenty of other places, dresses and prices; maybe you'll find another one that'll be even better! We can shop for as long as you want to." He tried cheering her up, placing his right arm over her wilted shoulders. She just nodded but inside she knew there wasn't going to be another dress like that no matter how much she looked.

"What time you meeting frog-face anyway?"

"Eight. How am I gonna find something else in less than three hours?" Her eyes sparkled with disappointment, but she didn't really feel too bad about it; it wasn't like she needed something to impress him by in the first place. Although, a sexy dress may lead her into getting a very nice present for her last day...

"There's going to be something, just trust me okay?" America winked, brightening her mood slightly. She just nodded and placed her head lightly onto his own shoulder.

"Yeah, your right. Ta', Alfred." They set off, exiting and entering more and more shops and stores until finally she found exactly what she wanted to show off to the awaiting beauty at the petal covered table for two.

* * *

**A few final adjustments were placed**, letting the hard-working romance frantic let out a deep exhale at his accomplishment. He wanted it all perfect, stupendous, for his amazing lover. There was no trickery to this set up; although he wouldn't have minded if it led to the bedroom after their meal, it was just his way of thanking her and showing her some respect after his actions. With the food heating steadily, ready to be whipped up and sorted as soon as it was time, France decided it was time to get himself fashionable for their date. He wanted her to swoon over him as she had done the night before, but he didn't want her to lose control of her poise over his handsomeness. That was going to be difficult, but he had pulled off such a task before and could do it again. He walked from the set balcony and strided into the glamorous bedroom that her clothes were placed in. It was tempting to snoop inside and find out more about her hidden secrets, but he decided against it and instead just moved the packed suitcase to the side, allowing him to reach into his many drawers of designer clothes and expensive brand names.

* * *

**Well, here goes...** she thought nervously. Hopefully he would like the back-up dress she had to chose after the small disaster earlier. It wasn't as lovely or elegant as the one she had desired, but it was still above average and it would do for just this one night. Perhaps another time, when she had a little... a lot more money she could try and buy it again.

Through the ice glass window, she could see the flicker of a lit candle on a large white object; one she distinct as the table, along with a casually sitting figure on her right hand side, barely moving as he waited patiently for his date. Shakily, she pulled one of the large handles and revealed, not only the scene to herself, but her beauty to the smiling Frenchman. It was outstanding what he had put together just for her; the table was dressed with a polar white, stainless sheet and accessorised with the promised rose petals and a tall golden candlestick lit like a fallen star. The very slight breeze played around with it kindly, only caressing it delicately. Above them was a young full moon bringing a luminous light over the world as the stars added their own donation, giving life over the cloudless deep blue sky. It wasn't night yet, but the beauty of a just set sun already showed that it was going to be absolutely amazing.

Under everything, however, stood an astonishingly dressed gentleman in a turquoise blazer/trouser suit. With peaked lapels and long button sleeves on the rear-vented jacket, hiding away all but the front of a pale pink collar shirt, and straight leg trousers which very sexily brought out the best of his tall figure as he stood welcomingly holding one hand out to her as the other rested in a jetted pocket contentedly. On his feet were plain black formal shoes which looked as if they were worth more than the highly expensive-looking suit itself. She could almost have sworn that she felt her heart skip a beat just at looking at him.

But to him, she was just as tremendous. Although it seemed she had chosen something – a lot – cheaper than he had, he didn't mind; she was beautiful in all she wore. Her dress consisted of nothing but black and white, the colours colliding together in the centre vertically down, almost giving the impression of sharp waves. It covered a lot more skin than she was used to as it had long sleeves that travelled all the way to her tiny wrists, clutching her slim arms under its cotton embrace much like the _décolletage_ done to her neck. The hem of the dress, like the other one, stopped just above her knees, but still hugged her tender thighs affectionately. On her feet were normal white flats with a lovely black iris sitting silently on the top, one that matched her flowered bracelet on her left wrist. Completing her model-worthy style was the simple black beret that the French were known for, letting the collapsed part of her hair escape in an explosion to frame her sublime features. Anyone would think she was a French model rather than an Australian surfer.

"You look _remarquable_!" He breathed, taking her hand. As a gentleman for the night, he took out her cushioned exquisite chair and sitting her kindly at the table.

"_Merci_." She thanked, her French just slightly drained with her Australian accent. He smirked sweetly at her attempt and sat back down opposite her and pouring out some vintage wine in two crystal glasses. Before they enjoyed the sparkling essence of the tasty liquid, they had a silent toast for each other, hitting them lightly together in sync.

"It's a beautiful night." Charlotte remarked, not taking her eyes off the handsome man before her.

"_Oui,_ one zat I 'ope will last forever just so I can forever see how beautiful you look tonight." Francis complimented. As used to she was being complimented by France, she still let out a bashful smile as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. She hoped for the same, just so she could see France so relaxed and fetching like this for eternity. At least this picture will remain embedded in her memory for longer than the eternal flame.

They chatted about useless things, throwing compliments to each other and blushing smiles with laughter under the darkening sky. She didn't want to leave the next morning, so decided that the thought of her departure wasn't going to plague her just for this night of pure tranquillity.

After a few minutes, France excused himself and headed to the kitchen to begin with his first carefully chosen course. He wanted to give her the finest of French cuisine for her last night; he hadn't cooked a three course meal for her before so he was determined to impress her. For each of his meals he added just that bit extra to make the flavour as succulent as possible; he was an expert when it came to taste, whether it was food, clothes or lovers, he knew exactly what to do to give it that little bit superfluous.

"_Voilà_!" He re-entered, bringing out two plates of exotic smelling dishes that made the mouth of Charlotte water in anticipation. He placed hers down before her, showing a plush pastry bolster of stylishness, "_Apéritif Fromage Brie_. _Bon apatite._" He settled his own plate and himself before tucking in. Aussie picked up her neatly placed cutlery and dived into her food with elegance. With only the first bite of the brie was she captivated by the taste! The cheese and pastry mix exploded with passion and emotion just like France did making love and again, she was addicted immediately. She didn't need to speak, nor did she want to at this point in time; he knew she was relishing it just by the look of approval on her marvellous appearance.

It wasn't long before the both finished their starter in satisfaction and unwound back into their seats.

"Fantastic. Absolutely sensational..." She grinned in contentment. Even though her stomach agreed, she was left wanting more, so much that she'd burst, since there didn't seem enough. This was part of France's plan; this way she'd have her appetite and addiction to his food for the main course in a few moments.

"So, 'ow 'ave you enjoyed my 'omeland after so long away?"

"I really 'ave loved being back. Everything's just like I remember. I promise I won't be gone so long next time; or at least we'll see each other more often now all the wars have settled."

"_Oui_, I cannot wait. We'll practically be joined by zee hip, no?"

"Theoretically, yes, practically, no."

"Well, we 'ave been 'ave we not?" He joked with a hinting smirk. She couldn't stop herself from laughing at him; she should know better than thinking France could go one night without some sort of flirt or sexual message.

"Yeah, guess we 'ave." She smiled. They both took a sip of their sweetening alcohol and continued conversing until once again, the Frenchman excused himself in order to bring out the next course: _Bouillabaisse_. Again, he set it out with grace and begun enjoying its succulent taste, getting more and more attached to its amazing texture with each bite that entered her watering oesophagus. This time, she was left having just enough for a satisfying meal, letting her stomach settle gladly as the food was devoured between them both. There was nothing she could have thought of that would have been any better to do than have the gorgeous food made by those French talented fingers; what other power did they bestow? He cooks, cleans, great fashion sense, a-fricken-mazing lover... What else could he possibly do to sweep her off her feet anymore?

"Jarlotte," He suddenly stood up from his seat and held out a strange device between his fingertips. With a push of a diminutive button on the device, Aussie heard the familiar picturesque French classical music play through speakers leading into the balcony. Francis held out his hand to her sitting frame with a delicate smile, "Will you 'onour me wiz a dance?" This was the icing on the cake; he danced too. Whether he was good or not she was about to find out. She didn't answer with words, but accepted his proposal instantly by placing her subtle hand onto his and letting him pull her up.

France put his hand comfortably onto her waist as the other never let go of her silken hand while she gently placed hers atop of his shoulder, gaining a tiny tingle as his locks faintly brushed along her fingers while the breeze joined in. This was so romantic; he glided swiftly in time with the music, leading their movements on the balcony with simplicity and dignity. Yes, he was defiantly an amazing dancer.

Never had Charlotte been romanced, or had she really cared, but the fact that he had as if they were two doves in a wide, peaceful world made her wonder if he really did just see her as just a friend. Of course, that's all she saw him as; as she thought earlier, she had never felt what it was like to be in love, but she doubt that it was any different to how she felt right now. France didn't open his eyes as they swayed, but kept a neutral unperturbed smile. Australia decided that she would have felt much more comfortable to place her head on his broad chest, a motion which let France rest his own stubble chin on top of her beret and widen his smile additionally.

He did love her, but she never realised it, even as she heard his heart flutter in a fast beat as it tried so hard to reach out to her. Their hands removed from each others, and instead were placed onto their backs in an affectionate breathtaking embrace. Something was defiantly different in her body as he held her; she felt her heart speed up in a way that made her bittersweet and sickly. Her head began to feel light and dizzy from the swaying, forcing her to lift her head from her cosy enfold.

"Francis, I think I need to sit down..." He opened his eyes and stared at her for a few seconds. She was pale, very pale, with half closed eyes but a wondrous smile on her plump lips.

"Are you feeling okay?" He pulled her closer in and stopped the movement. Taking her into his arms, he placed her back down into her chair and kneeled down before her as he checked her over concerned. She nodded, getting colder now that his arms had broken away, "Perhaps you need sugar; I'll get our dessert." The lofty romantic stood onto his feet and left for the last time in order to complete their luxury evening together. When he returned, in his hand were two tiny ramekins, both filled up with a beautifully risen chocolate _soufflé_.

"Well, this will defiantly be a sugar intake..." Charlotte joked as he placed the perfect brown mixture before her.

"I 'ope it'll make you feel better; I don't want you ill on our last night togezer."

"I hope so too." She dug deep into the delicious pudding, spilling out the creamy sweetness of melted chocolate from inside. The same sweetness burst out into song and danced on her savouring tongue, smoothly letting the chocolate river to flow down her throat welcomingly. He was such a fabulous cook! Again, judging by the face she pulled just by eating, he could guess that his chance of impressing her did not go to waste.

"'Ave you enjoyed tonight?" The Frenchman asked, slightly nervous that something had gone completely wrong.

"So much that I don't wan' it ta end!" She admitted full-heartedly. Everything was perfect; why didn't they do this more often?

"I'm really thankful that ya treated me like this, France."

"I would do it a zousand times more if you wanted me to." He smoothly commented. There was no way he'd lie about it either; she deserved nothing but the best.

"Well, I'd prefer it ta just be tonight, then I 'ave such a wonderful unique memory ta make me smile when I miss ya." She replied, giving off the most mesmerizing sparkle in her features as she leaned in closer to him. She held her head on her hand, letting the candlelight reflect in a waltz through her eyes. France couldn't hold himself back; the only thing that could have made this night even better... He leant in close, pressing his pursed lips tenderly on her own. She let him without giving it any thought. They didn't battle with their tongues, but kept their lips closed in a long, gentle kiss. He reached for the hand she leant on and took it away, entwining his warm fingers between her own. It wasn't for a very long time until they parted again, but when they did, they barely moved from each other, but smiled kindly and gazed into the eyes of their partner, telling their own emotions without any words.

They rejoined, this time allowing the full extent of their pleasure massage each other as their tongues locked in a syncretised melody. Something seemed different as she kissed France, something that made her stomach hurt. She didn't like how sickly she felt so, to both of their dismay; she unlocked their muscles and leaned back into her chair.

"It's getting late, maybe we should head for bed soon." She smiled, letting her tiring eyes drop a little to prove her point. France didn't say anything but he nodded hesitantly, indicating them to stand and head to France's bedroom.

* * *

**Their bodies moved in rhythm, **slowly enjoying a steady pace unlike the usual fast pace Charlotte had been used to. She wrapped her legs around his sweating back as he impaled her over and over in such a way which made her get butterflies rather than screaming. Their voices only rose as their breathing deepened, but their senses stayed intact.

She could feel his member edge along her most arousing area inside her pathway in a beat that matched her heart. Even this ever steady pace had her crave for even more. His head buried deeply into her neck, kissing it sloppily as he inhaled the intoxicated smell of the sea she possessed so astonishingly. Her hands pressed against his back, trying to pull him even deeper into her body. He was so tender to her, yet every other person who she slept with was so cruel and possessive... except... no, she couldn't think of him; she'd only get upset. Right now, France was all who needed to be in her mind. Thankfully, he lifted his head, framing her face with his golden waves as he lovingly placed his forehead onto hers.

"Jarlotte, I-I'm cumming." He warned her, shutting his eyes in pleasure as his pumping sped up only slightly. As his orgasm reached, he pushed himself in as far as he could, stopping the movement he had grasped caringly during their love making. It passed only in seconds, but he left himself comfortably in the encirclement of her dripping walls and dropping into her arms, catching his breath again.

"Jarlotte..." He whispered affectionately, "Why must you go?" Charlotte pulled him close him her figure and unwrapped her slim legs from his hip.

"I don't want to either, Francis." She replied, her voice aching with sadness, "But I have no choice; now that everything's settled between us, I need to care for my country again."

"When will I see you again?" He pushed his head up and kissed her devotedly.

"I don't know... There's so much I need to do, but I promise, we'll see each other again soon." It was always emotional when they had to say goodbye, but this time it seemed to be more affectionate and almost tearful. After all, they would be miles away, on the other side of the world to each other.

"Just don't forget zat promise... don't forget me."

"That's an odd request. 'Ave I ever forgotten ya before?" She couldn't help but giggle slightly at his remark, but he didn't join her. Instead, he stopped her by planting more touches along her lips and jaw, restarting his pace into her again. The love he had for her couldn't be expressed in any other way than what he was doing, but there was something deep inside of himself that told him that perhaps it was a one sided affair, after all, his talk with America earlier had shown about her reputation. It wasn't something he wanted to think about, however; right now, Australia is all who needed to be in his mind, soul and heart. Maybe one day he could ask her about what America said, but now wasn't the right time. Right now, he just wanted to show his love for her.

* * *

**Chapter two done and dusted. Longer than chapter one, but I doubt the chapters will get much longer than this... Anyway! I hope you enjoyed so please let me know~ :3**

**GoldenNekoLover14: *7* Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it~!**

**-xlilslayerx-**


	3. Strangers

"Now, ya sure there's nothin' else ya need before I leave?" It was already way passed the point of her flight time, but Charlotte kept being pulled back for various reasons by the wine lover. Finally, he shook his head in disappointment and let her board the helicopter.

"Call me when you get 'ome!" France fretted quickly. Aussie was left laughing at his protective nature, but only waved from the window. They didn't want it to be a teary goodbye, or even an unhappy one, so both of the countries smiled with a cute laugh, mouthing their goodbyes as she was swept up from the outstanding French land and into the midday atmosphere above the world.

As soon as she was out of reach, France dropped his waving hand and sighed deeply; he knew he should have confessed on their date. What regret! However, if what America had told him was true, then the last thing he wanted to do was make the evening awkward for both of them. It was the perfect night – there was no need to ruin it. Maybe a confession wasn't something he needed to do for him to be with her. After all, he was France; the flirtatious pervert. Surely he didn't want to settle down with one single woman just yet, right? He huffed again; of course he did. As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to get... older... which meant that his wondering days couldn't last forever. He didn't want to end up old and alone; he wanted someone for him, to embrace and love how much he pleased. After a lot of consideration, he realised his feelings for Australia were true and very strong, and that she was also the right girl for him. Strong, smart, sexy, alluring, erotic, he could go on for a long while. There was nothing she didn't possess that he wanted; ignoring her terrible sense in fashion, but whether or not she felt the same was an entirety in itself. She showed so many different signs that it was proven to be extremely difficult to understand just exactly what her feelings were.

He set back home and waited for the very important phone call; but it was so long to travel from France to Australia by helicopter, how long would it be until she actually could call? This was the most obnoxious part of parting with Charlotte for the simple fact that he couldn't stop his worry about her like a mother sending her child to their first day at school.

* * *

**Alright, things were gonna change around here!** For starters, there was no way in hell Australia could last more than a few days without company like she had been distressing for the past few decades. The only company she got was New Zealand, who had now made it apparent that she didn't like her big sister much. Now Charlotte realised what France meant when he said about England, America and... Who was the third one? Anyway, what he meant when he said that they never treated him like a big brother anymore, even though he raised all three of them. It was so sad. Oh well, she was sure she'd come around soon enough.

With the helicopter lowering easily onto the flattened grassy area of the vast Australian jungle, Aussie lent out of the door, holding her cork hat tightly to her head and smiled eagerly at her countries beautiful lush green towering around her gorgeously. Although she was sick of being an island on her own, there was no way she'd ever get sick of the beauty her country was, and the thrills of everyday venturing too! No matter where you went when in her home, there was danger lurking around every corner, just the way she liked it. How boring would life be without a few danger-zone risks? The copter landed perfectly, making its own crop circle in the deep bright blades of the ground before it slowed down carefully until it reached its halt.

"'Ome, sweet 'ome!" She smirked, waving the pilot off after grabbing everything she packed. This was her very upmost favourite part when returning to her abode; the stroll through the jungle beforehand. Because she lived on the edge of both a jungle and a beach, there was nowhere for a helicopter to land than a few miles away. It didn't bother her though; a 5 mile stroll was a very relaxing beginning of the day. Sometimes, she'd even take detours just so she could get that little bit extra of extraordinary and exotic landscape to enter her soul. Of course, Charlotte knew the entire field like the anatomy of a kangaroo, but it would never be the same trip twice when she gazed upon the outstanding and mesmerising natural scene each time. That was something she would have to sort out though; if she wanted to invite countries over, she would need some sort of guide to take them through. Maybe she'd put up signs or make some maps... Well, at least she could get home before she threatened about losing people who wasn't even there. She began striding her way across the rural path, dodging each hazardous step and animal which threatened to knock her down.

At long last, Charlotte kicked off her sandals and braced her landing onto her colourless sofa. Her villa was a cosy size with only five rooms, but had an amazing view both out on her patio, and on her bedroom balcony. With the jungle at her balcony and the sea at her patio, there was nothing more the athletic female could ever wish for. However, it was getting so lonely now that New Zealand no longer loved her big sister; she was becoming so cold towards her. It was becoming increasingly hard to take good enough care of her and keep her from making rash, terrible decisions.

Quickly, the sound of an opening window rushed Charlotte into a defensive stance off the settee.

"Alright, 'ho's dumb eno'f to break inta mi 'ouse?" She seeped angrily through her teeth, stepping slowly towards the hallway where the obnoxious bang came from.

"Da, such a hot country! It will be a nice holiday place when I take over..." A familiar frightful voice dreamily sighed. Oh no, Australia knew that voice a mile away; why the hell was he here? There he was, leaning casually out of a large window leading straight towards the beautiful white private beach outside before wiping at his brow and taking off his scarf and coat unused to the exasperating heat. She dropped her hands irritated and grinded her teeth, tapping the shoulder of the taller country.

"Russia, as much of a _pleasure _it is to see you, what are you doing here?" Ivan turned around with his usual innocent grin.

"Oh, hello, Charlotte. I was just looking for New Zealand, have you seen her?" He nonchalantly enquired, passing his loose clothing over to the tanned feline.

"No, I 'aven't been 'ere. Why would she be 'ere anyway? Better yet, what business do ya 'ave with mi li'l sister?" She glared immensely at the Russian; damn did he have a way to annoy her. Although she didn't have any sort of business with the sunflower lover, she wouldn't ever dare defy his needs or provoke him; only the odd death glare was all she could master against him. It was beginning to bother the brown haired woman though – he and New Zealand were always seeing each other now days...

"Okay. I'm sure she'll turn up soon so I'll stick around for a while. You don't mind, da?" It may have been her imagination, but Charlotte could have sworn he was threatening her somehow. Without another word the Russian headed into the living room, making himself quite comfortable in her favourite seat on her snug settee. She didn't have a choice but to accept his company. A minute ago, she was longing for the countries to visit her more often, but the mysterious snow man wasn't exactly the first person who jumped in her mind when she thought about who would be the most ecstatic being here. Sighing in defeat, she hung up the thick coat and strangely worn out scarf and joined him on the other side of the setting area in order to keep a close eye on him.

"Something's botherin' me, Russia." She began to converse. It's not like she felt hatred to the white haired nation, but she certainly could think of a few others words rather than 'like', "'Ow did ya get 'ere in the first place? The rocks around the beach leading to the Tasman Sea would 'ave made it difficult by boat; there are no roads or pathways leading 'ere and an 'elicopter can't drop anywhere close, so 'ow the 'ell did ya get ta mi 'ouse?" A few silent seconds passed as the Russian contemplated her question, but very quickly he brought back his strong, provoking grin.

"New Zealand brought me here. Then she disappeared."

"... New... That little brat!" The Aussie mumbled the last part harshly, "That brings me ta mi earlier question; what the 'ell do ya want wit' mi sis anyway?"

"He's just visiting, Australia." Shocked at the sudden new voice, Australia swiftly turned to see her bratty little sister standing behind her... in a towel.

"Ember! Put some clothes on will ya? We do 'ave a guest!" The black haired girl tusked at her big sister, only tightening her grip on the top of the towel and mumbling something inaudible to the older woman.

"I've been looking for you, Ember. Where have you been?" The third member perked up, closing his gleaming eyes into a satisfyingly pleased grin.

"In the shower, didn't I tell you?"

"You 'ave a shower at yours! Why are ya 'ere?" This was beginning to confuse the simple sibling to an extent she didn't want to reach.

"My hot water stopped working. Can you go now? I want to speak with Ivan in private." Her piercing purple eyes drained the soul of the poor older sister, almost making her forget her place.

"This is my 'ouse! If ya want ta talk to 'im in private, go 'ome!" She scowled horribly. The Kiwi was only her sister when it suited her and this ticked her off!

"And get dressed for fuck sake!"

"It's okay; we can talk while you get dressed." Speaking up only raised the anger boiling through the bronzed gals veins. She spun around and faced the, now standing, country.

"Not. In. Hell. Ya'll 'ave to chain me up before I let that 'appen!"

In just a few minutes the brown eyed sheila was screaming at the top of her lungs, tied tightly to the bedpost with a leering Russian above her head on one side, and a shorter intimidating Kiwi on the other.

"This suits you, Australia, I wonder if big brother France has tried this yet." She sneered at his name, watching the reddening face of her care taker with a hinting humour. Charlotte could only curse, but her unfortunate mind was wondering about the situation a little too much. There she was, helplessly tied to her bed in a revealing pair of shorts and a tight singlet with a demanding, dominating, daring man closely leaning over her body with an enjoyable smirk, carefully and audaciously climbing over her figure, running his hands through her silky hair and over her smooth cheeks. Damn, she wanted something dirty to happen, but she knew nothing would. Although, it was a little too strange considering her little sister was there too, even though they weren't blood related, she did raise her.

"W-W-Why would you even say that?" She stuttered considerably. It was only when she was defenceless she stuttered so much. Suddenly, a buzz could the attention of all three nations, turning their gaze over to the single white mobile on the side table. Being immobilized, New Zealand was left scowling as she was compelled to answer it annoyed.

"Yes? No, it's New Zealand. Oh, Big brother France, we were just talking about you." Oh no. France must have been wondering why she hadn't called; why did she have to answer to France? This wasn't going to end well...

"I'm afraid not. Why? Well, she's tied to the bed at the moment. How? Russia did it. Yeah, he's here, why?" She turned her head back to face her company, watching as Russia twirled a few strands of her fallow hair through his icy fingers with a wanting simper, "He's playing with her." The phone was brought from her ear in one swift moment, only to allow France's endless French cursing chant through the phone in a blazing chorus. The black haired witch only let the tiniest smirk reach her rouge lips as she pressed the phone back against her ear.

"Oh, I think you should talk to her, she'd give you the details." With the last part purred through the technological item, it was pressed against her sister's ear harshly, giving her the opportunity to try and explain and calm the French man down.

"Hey, Francis, it really isn't at all what it sounds like, mate." She began.

"Oh, zen what is it like, Jarlotte? Did you miss me zat much already zat you needed _Russia_ to take care of you? Why is 'e zere anyway?" He spited a little hurt. Of course, France knew that she wasn't actually doing anything with Russia; he learned of New Zealand's antics years ago but he just like to hear how pathetically Australia tried unwinding the situation. She was always too simple minded, making it easy for her to be locked into innuendos without realising it.

"He was waiting for New Zealand, and then she came out the shower almost starker's so I told 'er ta get dressed, then Russia wanted ta go with 'er but then I said that I'd 'ave ta be tied down before I allow that - that's 'ow I ended up 'ere!" France had to remove the phone from his ear before laughing; trust her to say something so sexual when trying to threaten someone! All his anger was forgotten, along with the hurt. She was a complete idiot. Even worse, she was there, tied to a bed in nothing but what he saw her dressed in before she left, flustered and sexy, and he wasn't even with her to take care of it. The idea of the roles switching from their first night together turned his head to so many different fantasies... He could even here her flustered panting down the phone from where she was struggling.

"So what is Russia doing to you?" He tried to keep a straight voice, but it began breaking at the end. Of all the people, it had to be Russia with her.

"He's playing with mi 'air and pinned mi legs down..." She quickly realised that the ending should have been left out. The only way someone could do both on her tall frame was only if they were straddling her... which he was. Thankfully, the sexual desire of their position did not seem to affect Russia the least, leaving her body to work for itself. At least, if it did, he concealed it extremely well. However, if he didn't do anything about his body weight and heat lurking over her beseeching hips, it soon may have led to undesired consequences, "... Help me; Ember's being so mean to me!"

"It sounds like it." Russia was on her? That was something the blonde narcissist didn't like one bit. Jealousy was beginning to form darkly through his soul, but he began to also feel helpless; how could he do anything? Russia was a huge country and there was no way France was going to become his enemy, and also Australia was way too far away to just come running to the rescue.

Watching the scene before her, Ember began to tire of her sister's pleading, and so decided to break Russia's looming frame from on top of her.

"Russia, I still need to talk to you and get dressed." She signed, pulling the heavy nation off of Charlotte.

"Da." Before he could be taken fully off, however, he leaned over into the ear of the paralysed woman, breathing just enough so only she and France could hear him. Without paying attention to the second female, he licked the shell of the singlet wearer's ear with a smirk as a slight moan reached her aching throat, trying all she could to keep France from hearing it, "We should continue another time, Charlotte..." The blush on her cheeks was enough for even France to feel. The seduction in his voice was one that was painfully intimidating, yet unimaginably alluring. If it wasn't for either her sister, or the fact she was on the phone to the very person she had slept with the night before, she would have gotten at least something out of this situation. Finally, he crawled off of her and untied her hurting wrists, noticing every part of her sexy frame as he done so, including the dark circles that raided across her neck hungrily. With a final grin, they both exited the dazed female's room and left her alone to speak with France. Even as she brought the phone back to her ear, neither of them could say a word. After a few awkward moments, France finally decided to break it.

"...Are... you alright?" He questioned worriedly.

"He picked me up and tied me down so easily... It's scary... knowing that you're near someone who could take you down in a blink of an eye."

"_Oui,_ but are you alright, _mon_ _cherié?_"

"Yeah, I'll live... hopefully." Not much could be said anymore. There was a fiery pain of jealousy in France, but Australia couldn't help but think of what could have happened if New Zealand didn't stop him. Did she realise things were getting strange and stop him? No... She didn't care what happened to her big sister anymore; she had been influenced by so many other countries that it was becoming apparent that she didn't matter anymore.

"Jarlotte..." France breathed sensationally. Quickly, she snapped out of her daze and focused on her call; the way he breathed her name always sent such amazing chills down her spine. Damn she wished, she longed, for him to be breathing her name beside her on her bed; she wanted him just by a tone of voice. Addiction was so strong and so amazing when it came to the French lover.

"Should I come over to your 'ome, _ma belle_?" There was something by the way he said that pure sentence that made the shaky female fall backwards on the bed again. The bloody Russian; his weight was solemnly on her hips – he probably did that on purpose, and the way he played with her hair was just how France would have. But breathing on her neck fiercely with that frosty bite and licking coldly on her shell... she needed something. Even worse, France's sexual emotions were thawing through his voice greatly, making him purr without realising it and bringing every one of her memories and senses back to their time together.

"Please, Francis... I need you here with me..." She sounded so pleading. What could she do when sounding like this? She couldn't help it the slightest, but her voice showed the sky eyed lover just what he had let go of all too soon. Why didn't he just go on the helicopter with her?

"I'll leave_ immédiatement_."

It would take France at least twenty five hours to get to her's since that's how long it took the absentminded sheila, so with time to kill Charlotte tried her best to take her tender mind off of the sexual tension that was beginning to build up in her. She had only been away from her gorgeous lover for just over a day yet she was like this! Still, with another days wait, perhaps she'd try taming herself and wait patiently until France was there before doing anything to help calm her sexual needs. How she was going to last was a wonder though...

* * *

**That night,** Charlotte felt the speeding beat of her heart too strongly. She couldn't sleep, she couldn't do anything; she was badly in need for company. Masturbation didn't seem to cut it for her anymore, now that she had felt those lustful tips of France: his long, slender tongue gliding, gluing his saliva over her naked chest... his lengthy, skilful fingers pumping and playing around her heating flower sharply... his hard, throbbing member teasing her viciously as it stands tall and thick, begging for her gasping mouth to coat it in the warm blanket of her own pink muscle... 'Oh, Francis' she'd call, stretching her legs open for him to take her however he wanted. Sure, she was dominating, but her power just didn't seem to effect properly when the blonde wine lover plagued her mind with his talents. She stretched her hands above her head in hope to keep her promise and refuse to touch herself at all. This way, she could go crazy with the Frenchman. She wondered highly if she could last though. Whispering mewls escaped her wet lips unintentionally as her eyes closed desperately. She had been like this for so long now after her dreams turned their back on her and gave her the pleasurable experience she craved, but as soon as she woke she realised that those sorts of experiences are never fulfilled in only dreams. Hell, she wanted France now! How much more was he going to make her wait? Of course, she knew it wasn't his fault, but she was just impatient of him.

Much to her surprise, a single streak of light casted over the flushed gal, making her uncomfortable movement halt completely, almost oblivious that she wasn't asleep. Her eyes weren't facing the door, but the light grew small again, indicating the large wood work was being closed. She felt relief wash over her only for a brief second, then she realised...

The figure climbed onto the bed with her.

Fearful, Charlotte found herself unable to move an inch. A few painfully quiet seconds passed, but the dark intruder fastly ascended on top of her aching body with a devilish smirk. She screamed but the frame on her only chuckled at her terrible attempts. No one could hear her; she lived isolated and alone.

"I'm glad I found this place, Charlotte," He jeered, "You're such a hot little country." His mouth leered closer to the frozen female as he locked her hands where they were placed, "I'm jealous..." Charlotte didn't need the light to know that mysterious voice. What was he doing? She knew that he couldn't be trusted but was he really capable of-!

"Russia, get off of me!" She worked and slithered her body as much as she could to get his hefty weight off, but no anvil. The icy eyes of the man shone brilliantly in the dark night, but it wasn't the gem eyes that she wanted there on top of her. Of all the time he could have came here, it had to be when she was defenceless and horny. Damn her female emotions giving her a high sex drive.

"Why would I do that? Didn't I say we'd continue later? Ember was being a bother, so I needed to wait until she was gone before," Removing one of his freezing hands from her gripped fists he brushed her hair aside using his fingers with slender pressure, "I came back for you. Become one with Mother Russia, da?" Slower and slower his face lowered closer to her own. She tried diverting her head to the side but he used his free hand to grab her chin and turn her back.

"Not in a million years!" She sneered darkly. Russia didn't seem at all surprised or hurt at her answer; all he did was grin.

"Then I'll make us become one instead." The Aussie gasped audibly, still fighting back, as the strong frame of the Russian leaned forward to her hands, kissing the fingers before tying them once again to her bed with his own scarf. No matter how much the scared woman struggled, she just couldn't remove the vice grip around her. What made matters even worse was that this was turning her on to no ends. If he didn't fulfil her needs, she was sure she was going to go crazy. Smirking at his work, the snow haired prowler started leaving butterfly kisses along her lengthy arms and licking them upwards again until the entirety of her upper limbs were sticky with his frozen saliva. When he reached down to her shoulders, he didn't bother with kissing her, he only wanted to get what he wanted, and that was what he was going to do. Ignoring her needs, his hands travelled to the light sheet that covered her sleek body and pulled it down, revealing her astonishing body to his prying eyes. She only slept in panties. Of all the stupid things she could have done, she could have at least bought some bed clothes or wore a bra. Now because of her stupidity, Ivan was staring at her uncovered breasts with an evil glint emitting from his hellish eyes. After he had mesmerised her strapping upper body, Ivan decided it was time he made her bow to him. Taking one of her flaccid buds into his mouth he twirled it around his tongue harshly whilst the other hand squeezed her second breast. She didn't like his touch; it was selfish. Whining and squirming, she did everything she could to stop him from continuing like this, or at least be kinder to her.

Wait, she didn't want this at all! Why was she thinking about being raped by him? No, Ivan was defiantly the wrong person to be sucking her nipples. She only wanted France. The strength the Russian used to play with her was too much for her. Sure, she liked it rough, but physical violence was completely different. She knew that if she said or done just one thing wrong, she would be hit. That may have been a turn on for one person, but that defiantly wasn't for her. She was yearning for the wondrous touch of a sky eyed beauty, not this monstrous beast.

"S-Stop this, please!" She begged. Although her nipples had hardened to his consistent lapping, she wasn't at all moaning in pleasure, or moaning at all in fact. This annoyed him terribly. Why was she trying so hard to win a fight she had clearly lost? He tried a different tactic and bit down on her, earning only a painful yelp. Strange... Her sister loved it when he was this rough with her, didn't she like it like this? How unfortunate. Perhaps it wasn't time for them to become one after all. Without a word he unhooked his gawping cavity off of her bouncing breasts and unlocked her wrists from the bed. Confused, Charlotte was only expecting the worst, but nothing came after that. All he did was climb back off of her hefty hips and walk out the room. 'She'd come to me' Ivan thought darkly, 'She'll be mine soon.'

...What just happened? Did he change his mind? She heard the loud thud of the front door and relaxed again. Great, he left her in the middle of it, meaning her wetness was still taunting her unbearably. Still, she made her promise and was going to stick by it no matter how long it took. At least when it does finally leave her, it would be because of a tender loving guy rather than rough rugged hands. Ignoring her body's pleas, she pulled the cover back over her lean frame and twisted onto her side, trying all she could to relax enough to at least sleep.

* * *

**Landing down onto** the unfamiliar territory, France was feeling slightly nervous for the brown haired sheila to show. Why, he didn't understand himself, but as the graceful beams of the afternoon sun shadowed over the trees until it broke through, he followed their leading path to expose the running beautiful figure of the same woman he was worried for. She was unharmed by the looks of it – that was good. If that bastard Russia tried anything even remotely harmful to her, he'd be sorry.

"Francis!" She called blissfully. Sprinting over to his taller figure, her arms flung tightly around his shoulders in a loving embrace, making the Frenchman blush ever so slightly at her sudden personality switch. He brought his arms up to her waist as the helicopter escaped from the surrounding pure trees the two countries stood inside. The wanting woman nuzzled her nose into the crook of the older nation's neck not letting him let her go. She need him to embrace her, she wanted him right there and then. Holding herself back took such a toll on her, and now that the man of her deepest fantasies was standing there, his body leaning so close to her, making their chests rub together hungrily. No matter how hard she tried, there was no escaping her heating want anymore. She dropped her hands an inch from his shoulders to his forearms, but then slowly kept moving them down and around his trim figure impatiently until they halt and rested eagerly on the Frenchman's firm butt. France could smell her steamy arousing aura a mile away; she was like a dog in heat. This didn't seem to appeal to him at all. He tried prying her off but only succeeded into getting her chest off of his. Still, their hips were locked together and she took this to her advantage by grinding herself against him with a blurry mind.

"Francis, I need you right here, right now." She growled, barely giving him a chance to stand his ground against her. Any other person, he'd probably jump at the opportunity, but Charlotte was a different matter. Fastly, her hands perversely pushed through his shirt, rubbing his abs keenly in desire and pressing her lips around his neck explicitly. However, no reaction to each one of her actions surprised her downheartedly; could she not turn him on like this? She had done it so easily the times before, what was different to now?

"Francis, what's wrong?" Calming herself down to understand her partner's problems, she waited patiently for him to speak.

"Do you... did you only want me 'ere for sex? Is zat all you see me as; a booty call?" This shocked her incredibly. The hurt in his voice was enough for even her dense mind to understand. Now that she thought about it, that was all she thought about getting from him, yet they had been friends for years and had so much fun doing so many other things. Why did she suddenly see him as a fuck-buddy?

"I see you as my best friend. But, ever since you showed me just exactly what you were capable of, I've only wanted you. I've only desired to have you. You drive me crazy..." She lowered her voice succulently and leaned in to kiss him, but still he rejected her, dropping his arms off of her waist and stepping back. This felt like such a kick in the face to her. Rejected... by France. The perverted loving loser who tried sleeping with basically everyone... and he rejected her.

"Sexual tension drives you crazy." He sighed slightly upset at his own words. He really did love her, but sex was something he didn't want to give her; it was love he wanted to give her, "I am not zee country of passion, Jarlotte, zat is Spain. I am zee country of _l'amour_. Until you understand zat, I won't give you what you want." He was dead serious and the astonishment in her face was slightly laughable. Not give her sex? That was torture! No other man would be able to replace him and she really needed him now!

"But- but- but-!" She tried, her eyes swirling in confusion. She hadn't been in love before, how the hell was she meant to know there was a difference? What was the difference? With anime tears dripping from her eyes, France smirked. Who said he could never play hard to get? All he wanted her to say was something along the lines of 'make love to me', then he'd fulfil her desire full heartedly.

"Come on zen; let's go to your 'ome." He begun making his journey towards the house he had over the years become accustom to, grabbing the hand of the owner as he passed her. Although, no matter how many times he had come here, he only knew half the way there, so pulling the confused Australian behind him could only go so far before he had to bring her wondering mind back to reality. France was hurt that he had to say all those things, and instantly regretted the fact that he was in her country, meaning that he wasn't going to get barely any sex either... perhaps he didn't really think this through... but he didn't want to become just another one of the men she slept with before; he valued her life more than his own.

"I'm sorry." A quiet voice spoke up, startling him into turning around, "I didn't mean for you to think that I no longer value you as a person. To be honest, I don't know what the difference is between making love and having sex." Francis couldn't help his guilt shooting up. She was so cute! No matter what happened, she always knew exactly what he was thinking. If only she'd say the words though.

"It is okay, _mon cherié_; you would never zink so low of me, oui?" With a dazzling smile Australia felt her heart beat kindly, knowing that no matter what they'd always be best friends. If this became a one night stand between them, then she'd get over it eventually; it's not like France was only sensational at sex, he was good at many different things. He'll just take her mind off of it... somehow.

* * *

**As they walked** through the sliding back door of her villa, Charlotte's hand was let go of by Francis. His own hand was brought up to his face to let out a mighty yawn for the brown haired sheila to witness.

"If you want to sleep for a bit, you can use my bedroom. The spare is a little messy. You've had a long journey, so maybe it would be best for you to rest a while."

"_Oui, merci_." He replied with his mother tongue. He was really tired to begin with, but that journey to her house just took a huge amount of energy that he didn't have in the first place; he didn't even have the energy to speak English anymore.

"I'm going to be in the shower – if you need anything then just come in." Half hoping France would take this opportunity for a few innuendos; she waited patiently but only received a slight nod as he headed towards her bedroom.

"_Bonne nuit, mon amour_." Left cold and alone, Charlotte finally decided to give up on her pursuit on Francis and decided to take the cold shower she needed.

Her hands twisted round to the cool temperature she needed for the taps and stripped down lazily, noting any changes that may of happened to her body. Great... She had a very dark, very visible bite mark circulating her erected pale nipple where Russia had decided to be rough with her. He really didn't know how to treat a woman. She sighed and climbed in the running waterfall. What made him do that anyway? Did he like her, or was he just feeling aroused? Who knows...? But, whatever it was, he was gone now so she no longer needed to worry. Yet, she couldn't escape the feeling of his leering eyes. She was glad that France hadn't asked anything about it, but it was easy to see that it was badly hurting him. Of course, this was only because Australia was basically his benefitting friend; she was sure he wouldn't like to share her with another country now. Charlotte couldn't care less if he slept with hundreds of other countries (with the exception of New Zealand and her other siblings) but for a strange reason, he did care. How odd.

Once again, the terrifying sound of a loud crash broke away all of the Aussie's feelings, making her sprint through the bathroom door without a second thought. Soaking with adrenaline pumping through her veins, she quickly headed into the direction of the peculiar noise, finding that it had come from her bedroom.

"France, are ya alright, mate?" She fretted with fear. If he was hurt, she wouldn't know what she'd do. Her hand collided with the door handle and she yanked it open, but the sight before her was defiantly one she did not expect.

The noise came from her lamp smashing against the floor as the blonde beauty had an intruder pinned down onto the bed. What was the strange part, however, was who the intruder was. When was he going to leave her alone?

"What the 'ell? Russia, why are ya 'ere, _again_?" This was too far now. Once again, he tried creeping up on her while she was defenceless on the bed, but ended up creeping on France. Well, it didn't look like Francis was having too much of a problem with the situation.

"I was hoping you had changed your mind on my offer and wanted to persuade you a little more." He answered, not once taking his eyes off the sky eyes from above him. Charlotte sighed. He was meant to be with New Zealand, yet it started to seem like he was using her to get to Australia. Perhaps she was over thinking it, but it was becoming annoying.

"Francis, ya can let go of 'im now." Reluctantly, he climbed off the familiar ally, receiving an overpowering smirk while doing so. It didn't take long for Russia to notice the naked female before him, but as he eyed her approvingly and steadily walked towards her frozen direction, France found himself fastly stepping over to her side, placing a protective arm across her faultless chest. The gaze Charlotte received from the large nation was one than made her shiver in fear, resulting to her stationary figure unwillingly. She needed to cover herself up, but the trepidation building up in her tightening throat was one that stopped her from any sort of reaction. Ivan's smirk only continued with a perverse gleam. As soon as he was in a gratifying distance, his icy hand caressed her cheek solemnly. However, the scowling Frenchman pulled her body away from his allied country and closer to his own fearing body. This was the first time he had stood up to Russia so well; but it was for a good enough cause.

"Leave, Russia. She 'as not changed 'er mind and will not in zee near future." France scowled covering up the speechless woman with his own body. There were no more words that were said between the rivalling males; only actions which proved the point of their unspoken words with greater might. Russia was enjoying the little display before him. The grin did not waver the least as he turned for the door, but his eyes quickly exchanged Francis's glare for a more appealing area uncovered on the silent girl. Before he could be stopped, Russia's jaws clamped darkly onto the Aussie's neck, earning a painful scream and successfully snapping her back into the world.

France had enough.

Suddenly, Charlotte was forced out of the way as France's anger flared. No verbal bantering came from the infuriated wine lover, but physical as his hand balled into the strongest fist he could provide and throwing it instantly into Russia's cheek. Quickly the vodka drinker was thrown onto the floor with just that one punch. He was completely caught by surprise; no one had dared to hit him in an extremely long time and the person to raise his fist happened to be the surrendering elder of the nations. For someone who barely fought, he had a lot of strength behind his attack. Russia brought his freezing hand to his newly formed bruise, nevertheless still smiling as he recomposed his posture off the ground.

"I'd be careful if I were you, France," He malevolencely contemplated, "Some countries begin wars this way." France turned his gaze back to the stunned woman shaking on the bed for a brief second before twisting head on to Russia.

"If anyone tries to 'arm Charlotte, I will protect 'er. Even from you, Russia. Now get out." He was stern and uncharacteristically brave. Charlotte hadn't seen this side of him since his napoleon years and it was making her heart beat rapidly like she was witnessing the bravery of a prince charming in a fairy tale. She felt so weird and sickly, but it was such a welcoming feeling that she just didn't want to let it go. What was this strange emotion? She couldn't take her chocolate orbs off of the handsome man's back; she couldn't even feel the heat emitting from her darkening cheeks as a blush rose up. There was a gratification she had for France that she couldn't place properly; whatever it was, she was just pleased he had agreed to join her today. Finally she understood that she didn't need him for sex, she needed him there just to make her happy.

Russia left with one last glance over to Australia, letting France's guard drop back down into a relaxing state.

"_Si gênant_!" Turning around back Charlotte, France couldn't help but stare over her defenceless state. It was only a handful of countries that could make her shake like this. He strided over to her and helped her back to her feet, eyeing over her fresh bleeding wound, "You really can be troublesome, Jarlotte." There wasn't much more he could say; her arms dropped from her parts and were thrown over his shoulders in a tight thankful grip. She wasn't crying, but she shook unimaginably at the fear that pulsed through her veins. He kept her close into his body. There were times he needed to be mature and protective and now was certainly one of those times.

After a little while, he loosened her grasp around his shoulders and stared down to the dripping blood on her. Gently, he worked his own jaw over the area and lapped it up.

"Francis... Wh-What are ya doing?" She seeped, trying to surpass her need to moan. After all the events, the feelings that wrecked her body had faded, yet still that sickly heartbeat plagued her chest quite painfully. He didn't answer her. Once the area had been cleaned, he took his tongue from the wound and soothingly replaced it with his lips, kissing it sweetly better. Still he kept his forehead buried into her hair as he rested down onto her shoulder, silently enjoying their small moment as his own adrenaline calmed down.

"I'm so tired, Jarlotte, but I won't be able to sleep like zis..." He admitted sadly. Softly his head was patted and embraced into his resting pillow of her body.

"Why don't we both rest?" With a muffled yes from France, Charlotte pulled their bodies up and over towards her silken sheets. They entered the comforting protection of her sleek covers and just laid together, hands wrapped around each other with their head so close. This was the comfort Charlotte wish she had every day. No matter how many men she slept with, France's embrace could not be replaced. She watched him closely as his eyes dropped down into a cosy siesta. Quickly, a foreign urge entered the sheila, making her stretch her neck towards the taller man without her noticing, and kiss his forehead with the same kindness he was giving her in this sweet moment. All she wanted to do was to express her odd, unnamed emotion and explore it further; only, she just wanted it to be France at her side as she done so.

* * *

**Chapter 3 :3 Admittedly, I only have up to chapter six written up, so I'll have less updates after that, unfortunately. But I'm leaving about a week or so in between in order to think of further chapters too. I know Russia has been placed as quite the bastard, but he's basically the bad guy of the story, so he has to be. Don't get me wrong though, I true do love Russia. He's one of my favourite characters actually, I just thought he'd fit the role more than anyone else.  
**

**Abby-Flourite: I REMEMBER YOU~! *7* I haven't seen you since The Fire of 1000 Cherry Blossoms! It's great to see you again~ And also, thank you so much! You'll find out soon just what she means~ X3**

**-xlilslayerx-**


	4. Making Love

"Throw it, mate!" She called; her grin wide and excited as her slender legs kicked at the gorgeous blue ocean to keep her up. The sun's wondrous heat exploded onto the Earth with as much affection as a smooth brush stroke on a canvas, painting its beauty onto the luscious land of Charlotte's home and the inexplicable humid sand blanketing around the pair of fun loving friends with a sparkle of enjoyment which reflected through their playful eyes. It was still early morning, but nothing felt more tranquil than having breakfast with the sea and sun as well as her favourite person in the world. She almost forgot the entire mess of yesterday.

Approving of her request, France threw the Frisbee with great might over to the athletic lover for her to receive. Quickly it appeared before her, letting her reach out fastly with speedy reflexes and successfully grip the piece of colourful plastic. Her smile was one that could rival the suns as she played. Francis could only note how childish yet beautiful she turned when she had no care in the world. Although he much loved her dark side, this was the woman he fell in love with and this was the woman he wanted for his own. The shimmering ocean did well to highlight the tanned skin of hers that exposed genially outside of her reasonably graceful bikini, only adding a delicacy which made him want to just eat her up like a French dessert. Could a country ever be more amazing? If he ever lost her to Russia, he'd be worse than devastated; he'd be distraughted to the point where... he just didn't want to think about it. At the moment, she was safe and that was how he was going to keep it no matter what. By her side, and in his arms for all of eternity.

It didn't take long for a bright idea to bestow upon the jocund dame. She knew that this wasn't going to be too ideal for the Frenchman, but that wasn't going to stop her from doing what she loved.

"Hey, Francis! Fancy catchin' some waves with me?" She laughed brightly. There was no need to ask him; she knew he had no sense of balance on the board no matter how many times she tried teaching him. He instantly pulled a face which basically meant 'not a chance in hell', so shrugging her shoulders, the Aussie ran out of the balmy water and over to her villa's garage.

As his gaze followed the woman over the sublime waves, France just couldn't stop his heart beating at the wondrous sight that bestowed before him over the luscious horizon; she was so beautiful… With each trick and swerve she done on that large champagne coloured board just further impressed him no matter how many years he had seen her do them. Charlotte was an expert at surfing and had won countless competitions from across Australia but she never gloated or surfed just for winning. The one thing that was important to her and she cared deeply though her soul was the fact that surfing was her hobby and enjoyment and was treated as such. Each time she had the chance she would glide effortlessly through the tube of a melodious wave, gleaming with delight sprawled across her glorious features.

France exited the waters and slouched over the sand peacefully, still watching closely at the laughing gal through all her mind blowing skills with a sinister smile extended across his tanning phizog. As soon as she was free from the movement of the elaborate ocean, she turned to his frame and waved hysterically, making sure he saw her in order to wave back, but much more comfortable. This is what it was about when being her best friend; not being overly obsessed with sex. They may not have seen it, but he had many other uses than bringing so much pleasure to the world. Charlotte spent a lot of her time in the ocean, but it didn't bother him; he was just glad she was enjoying herself to such an extent.

* * *

**A few hours later**, she finally decided to head back and join him.

"Ah, such a beautiful day!" She exclaimed and collapsed down beside him onto the lovely lukewarm sand. Her hair sprawled out messily and her limbs followed its example, but the smile that was basking on her lips just made the childish nature of the fun loving girl shine out cutely. As quickly as she settled down, she sprang back up like a springboard and grabbed France's hands eagerly with a strangely determined spark glinting through her wide fallow orbs.

"I've decided something, Francis!" She bubbly cried out.

"Oh? What will zat be?" He laughed slightly. She had said before that taking care of him while he flirted was a hassle, but did she ever realize just how much attention she needed when she was hyper?

"I've decided that… I'm going to throw a party for the Nations! Especially for the Europeans and Asians; I don't get to see them all enough."

"A party? Who will you invite?" It didn't seem bad enough. After all, she had been so stressed lately so perhaps seeing old friends – without getting too drunk this time – would have been a good idea.

"Well: you obviously are first on my list, America and the other one-"

"Canada."

"Oh that's his name? England, Scotland, Poland, Germany, cute Italy and bad mouth Italy-"

"Romano."

"Yeah, that one: Austria, Switzerland, Greece, China, Japan, Korea… and…Wow, I haven't seen the awesome Prussia in decades! And the gorgeous Spain too!" Suddenly, she was brought back to memories of the times she used to flirt with the BBT and hang out with them, causing her to start her non-stop babbling for a chuckling France.

"It sounds like it will be a great party… But I can't 'elp but notice zat you didn't list any woman."

"Oh? I didn't? That's odd… Well, I like Belarus; she keeps Russia away but she doesn't like me. Also… huh… Oh! Lichtenstein! But, convincing Switzerland to let her come will be really hard. And, even though I doubt she'd come, I'll invite New Zealand. Taiwan's a cutie, but after our little… incident… I don't think she'd want ta see me. Hungary is definitely invited, and so is Ukraine!"

"When will you 'ave zis party anyway?"

"As soon as pos'! Maybe next week so they can all leave in time. 'Specially the Nordics."

"You are practically inviting zee world! Per'aps you should zink a little more about it before you plan zis party."

"Inviting the world! That's a wonderful idea, Francis!"

"I zink you misunderstood me…"

"So le' me think… I'll need: Party food – You can cook! Music, booze – that's important – decorations… I have another idea! I'll invite America over; 'e'll be sure ta throw somethin' awesome!" Completely taken into her own world, France was left trying to get her attention, but failing miserably. Usually, he'd just grab her behind and she'd shut up long enough for him to get a word in but, due to his own stupid rules, he couldn't at this moment in time. Why did he say those things yesterday? He wanted to break the rules so badly, but it had become more of a matter of pride rather than teaching her a lesson. Oh well, what can he do? Instead of trying, France found himself shaking his head light-heartedly and lying back down on the pleasant beach and working more on his alluring tan. God help him if he burnt himself…

Not too long later, her sudden vivacious ranting came to a close, giving the poor male a final peace and a chance to have a normal conversation with her. Of course, as any gentleman, he listened to everything she had said, but he didn't really register it all. All he knew was that she was going to throw a party, designed by America, food by him, alcohol from Germany, and something about some games… Seven minutes in heaven? If it was the same one he had played all those times before, then he'd hope to get a certain cork hat wearer trapped in a diminutive closet with him. Oh, in that sort of game, his rule will not apply, but the rules of the game. They will certainly be a set of rules he'd obey whole-heartedly.

"I'm gonna do the preparations now!" She shouted, picking herself up in seconds and sprinting home.

* * *

"**Dude, that's** **a totally** cool idea!" Shouted a fellow deafening country from down the phone.

"I know! So will ya help? Come on, Alfred; ya throw the best parties ever!"

"Well, that is true, but you know I have a lot to do-"

"Don't lie, mate. Since when do ya do any work?"

"Hey! These fast food restaurants aren't gonna build themselves you know!"

"… Seriously, when do ya see fast food joints being built? They just… appear. But, never mind that! Ple~ase? I'll barbie some hamburgers for ya. Please, Al, my awesome hero?" She begged with knowledge of just how to convince him to do as she pleased. It was apparent, but the sly fox knew just how to wrap unsuspecting countries around her little finger.

"Alright, fine… I'll leave in a few days so I'll be there next week. Is that okay?" He sighed defeated.

"Ta', hero!" Charlotte was beaming with delight as the phone was pressed back down onto the stand, signalling to the seated Frenchman on the settee that she had finally gotten around America. The happiness of today was very welcoming after such a hassling day yesterday; one which the bubbly woman hoped would last just a little longer.

"Your 'awesome 'ero' is coming zen?" France sarcastically contemplated as she headed over to the settee. Instead of sitting beside him however, the whimsical woman bounced onto it and sprawled herself across, lazily resting her feet on the lengthy lap of her companion.

"Yep!" She grinned stupidly. Like this, France couldn't help but stare from her feet and up her tanned, silken legs. Without even realising it, he found himself stroking her shins with a smooth, rhythmic glide of his entire hand, feeling just how preciously creamy her limbs were and painting a picture with his fingertips as he done so.

"Francis…" She soothed, "What are you doing?" The last thing she needed was for him to start caressing her if he wasn't going to break his godforsaken promise. Still he continued, but in a way that told the girl that he was going to stop. Each time his hand travelled slowly up, then steadily down, Charlotte was left with shivers signalling through her spine, making her arms fill with goose-bumps. Finally, but unwillingly, he brought his skilful palms over her feet, progressively massaging them. She wasn't at all ticklish on her feet, so France was able to use his best techniques on her to make her relax. Judging by how she had tilted her head back so splendidly, the Frenchman accepted that she was enjoying his hands, as usual, and doing her best just to unwind into his careful movements. Her feet were so beautiful and undeviating… they really matched her gorgeous body so much. All he wanted to do was kiss her slender skin and caress her all over; massaging her was only the beginning. If he could no longer stop himself, then his pride of a promise was going to fall down the drain, leaving the Aussie at the finishing line, claiming her victory. How would she learn her lesson if he doesn't even follow through with it? He knew she wanted him badly, but did she realize just how much she turned him on too? He thought up such a terrible plan… He could have thought of something else that wouldn't have left them both sexless. Unfortunately, it was in the spur of the moment. All he wanted from her were those simple words.

Continuing with his talented hands, he pushed and rubbed her sensationally, trying all he could not to turn it into sexually, tracing along every line she possessed and working around the best points to relieve any stress or tension. Every dip in her diminutive arch, every flawless part of her perfect feet, every scar of her heel… wait, a scar? Earning a whine from Charlotte as he stopped, Francis picked up her right foot and examined the peculiar area. What he noticed both shocked and worried him.

"Jarlotte, what is zis?" He asked, timidly tracing his thumb over the strangely large dip where her right heel should have been. There were small scars circling the dent, like something had ripped out this part of her foot. How had he never noticed this before?

"Oh, that? It's noting, mate. I just 'ad a small encounter with a Cookiecutter a few months ago, that's all." She explained like it was nothing, but France had to just stare blankly at her; wasn't that some sort of cooking utility? Taking a glance at his curious features, Charlotte took a wild guess at what he was thinking.

"A Cookiecutter is a bloody pesky shark. 'Bout so big," She indicated with her hands, making the same size as probably a rugby ball, "They don't usually bite, but this one 'ad a temper on 'im. I guess he didn't like being whacked by my surfboard." Shaking the blank look off of his face, France brought his hand up and chuckled slightly.

"You ought to be more careful, Jarlotte." He leant towards her from his position at her feet, easily reaching to her head with his own. He took her chin into his fingers and watched as her face burnt rose red, smirking at how cute she was, "I don't ever want to see you 'urt."

She was gorgeous, staring up at him with her round shimmering eyes, her messy fallow curls, her sexy slim figure, her open plump lips… Well, he said that he wouldn't have sex with her, but he didn't say…

Swiftly he placed his head down, giving up on resisting and finally kissed her. Only a tiny peck, but still he felt the spark between their lips alight, shocking her but not letting her go against him. He was teasing her. Massaging her, lying so close to her, kissing her, so talented, just why wouldn't he sleep with her? He mentioned something about making love rather than just sex; is that what he wanted her to realize? What was the difference…? Why couldn't he just show her the difference instead? Either way, sex or love-making, she'd still become satisfied if it was with Francis. He lowered his head again, kissing her over and over until all he could do was stare adoringly into her eyes. …Maybe it wasn't about her. Is that what Francis was trying to tell her? She hated it when the men she slept with were so selfish and didn't… think about… her feelings… What about Francis's feelings? All she ever thought about was getting pleasure from him now; what about what France wanted? How could she have been so horrible to not think about her partner? Without lifting again this time, their lips collided into a light, loving kiss, not budging away from each other at all.

He got carried away. Now what was he going to do? The taste of his sweet Charlotte was too addicting, too strong for him to battle against. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stop. Their make-out session wasn't at all heated, but if they even try to turn it around into his personal favourite French kiss, there was no way he could turn back. She was semi-naked under him. She was stunning and so amazing. All he wanted to do was tell her how much he loved her; why couldn't he, though? There was something stopping him and he had no idea what. Charlotte changed her position to place her hands onto his back, holding him kindly and unlocking their lips.

"Ta' Francis… We should stop now, or you'll regret it later." She whispered benevolent. Stop? Charlotte is the one stopping him? That was bizarre! After all that had happened, after how much she begged for him yesterday, she was stopping him? He couldn't help but feel slightly upset at her sudden change, but was somewhat pleased to know that she was thinking about what he had told her. Perhaps it wouldn't take too long after all. She stood up from the sofa and made her was out to the porch, smiling back blithely. It didn't take too long for the initial shock to wear away, but the confusion remained in the wine lover; why did she thank him?

As soon as she exited the front door, Charlotte grasped heavily onto where her heart drummed. It was beating so fast it hurt her. Was she falling ill? The last thing she wanted was for France to get worried about her if she fainted in front of him! She quickly stepped down a stair and sat on it, not letting go of her rapid heart for a moment. It hurt… Her stomach felt queasy. Maybe she was becoming ill. Hopefully it would pass before her party, or she may have to cancel, sending Alfred here for no reason. Alfred… It had been so long since he had come over. After all that had happened… No, she wouldn't think about it; it's in the past now. Still, she had high hopes that it wouldn't be awkward for him. That's right, he had to talk to France when he helped her shopping; they spoke when she was getting ready and left before she went to France… What did they talk about? Whatever it was, France wasn't fazed during their date, so it must have been alright. Just thinking about their conspicuous date was making her accelerating heart beat even harder. Why was she reacting like this? She needed a drink…

* * *

**That night was astonishing. **The high moon shone its glory over the Earth with a gleaming smile, caressing its love with every part of its desire in a caring embrace as the whistling, carefree breeze played vivaciously with the captivating sumptuous jungle leaves as the nocturnal animals sung. The gaudy atmosphere was brilliant under the flamboyant stars who welcomed the citizens of his pulchritudinous friend's country into a warming bedtime story for this opulent time. There was only one thing that could have made this night even better for France: Having the ostentatious girl of his dreams held in his arms as he lied on the settee, drinking his favourable wine. It may have overwhelmed him when she stopped them from going any further, but now that he had re-composed himself, France found that he wanted a little company just to clutch onto as they watched enticing late night movies.

He waited for her, but she said she needed to do something and hadn't been seen since. So, in hope to keep his patience, he stared around her living room, taking in the amazing decorations and interior she had collected over her years. Like her personality, her home was always modern. He lied on the polar white settee with two matching designer seats on either side, circling a small retro black and white coffee table and a single mint green square rug underneath. Completing the circle was a flat screen television hung flawlessly on the wall before the settee. She only had a small, one floor house, but it was cosy, and the living room was placed in such a way were it did not over-fill with furniture and people could still move around inside, as well as mesmeric decor which brought the perfect colour to entice the living space. The colour focus was mainly on mint green: colourful decorative pillows, paintings which shone with the exquisite shade, a feature wall of the same surrounded by the polar white she partnered with the green, but there was one colour which stood out completely above all of the room: a transparent vase on the coffee table holding the most elegant Golden Wattle flowers he had ever seen. Her national flower and representing her most beautiful feature of all; the golden shine of her fallow eyes. On the two black shelves lining along next to the TV were tens of trophies and medals, all of which were from sporting competitions, glimmering bronzes, silvers and golds, each of which were polished and beauteous.

His patience was soon fulfilled as he heard the luscious voice of the ravishing Charlotte from the doorframe.

"_Bonsour_, Francis." She lulled with a hint of frolicsomeness.

"_Bonsour, mon cherié_-!" He was left wide eyed as soon as he turned to face her. There she was… leaning against the plain doorframe with all of her desirable body, wearing nothing but the infatuating Babylon he had once found, along with a sexy black laced thong just translucent enough to cover her flower, but so thin it was almost pointless to call underwear. Each of her glorious curves was on an emphasised display and completely faultless as the cotton swayed with every diminutive movement she made. She was so stunning, so captivating, so enthralling… but that wasn't what caused France to spit out his wine. No… it was the delicate felt above her head… in the large, sexual shape of two alluring cat ears.

"I was just looking for something when I came across these! Do you remember when ya bought them for me, trying almost anything to get me to wear them for ya?" Yes… He remembered in crystal just how badly he wanted to see her dressed up erotically with cat ears. Of all times, she decided that NOW she would fulfil his wishes. So cunning yet so evil. She left the comfort of the frame and glided towards him, each little sway with her hip hypnotising him into an unfairly dirty mind. As she reached him, she huddled down onto the settee and ran a heedful finger along his arm. All France could do was listen to his senses begging for him to touch her no matter how hard he tried listening to his brain to not fall for it. The tender finger ghastly travelled to and fro from his shoulder to his elbow, so suggestively… and her breasts, so close, pressing deeply into his chest… So close that he could even feel her erect nipples teasing him through their shared fabric. He tried forgetting his sense of touch, but his sight betrayed him too; only from her elongated legs, up to her slender stomach, over those wanting breasts to her bright, gleaming eyes and finally to the kinky black ears on her glimmering hair, then repeating the stare in the opposite direction in order to start again. Why did she have to be so damn sexy? He could even smell a strong rosy perfume scenting amazingly from her, mixing astonishingly with her normal, beautiful oceanic aroma. What would those mixes smell like if her sweat was also added? No, he couldn't waver! But yet, his own hearing peaked to listen closely to her uneven breathing draining out the TV… He wanted to make her melodiously mewl for him. The only sense that couldn't comprehend to her was his taste. It was terrible how much he wanted to lick her all over, take in every single different concupiscent sensation she had over that irresistible goddess-like body she was miracle-d with. He swallowed hard. If he lost concentration for one minute, one second, his promise was going down the drain; everything in his blood told him to caress her and touch her in every way possible, and to make her his no matter how long it took.

"Well, Francis, I give up. I've really tried so hard to work out the difference between sex and making love… But I just can't!" She purred, feigning innocence for him yet still giving him a voluptuous look.

"_Oh, mon dieu_… I stand at what I said, Jarlotte. You cannot tease me like zis!" Although this is what he exclaimed, Charlotte could easily see his discomfort of the forming heat between them; he was breaking quickly. No matter how hard he tried covering it, his growing arousal was obvious to the inwardly smirking girl. Leaning close to his ear, she breathed gently into his cannel with a careful growl emitting from her throat.

"I'm not trying to tease you… I just want to ask you a favour…" With a whisper, all of the Frenchman's walls suddenly collided down.

"Can't ya just show me instead?"

"What… What are you asking me?" He very steadily got out of his throat. There was no more focus in his dazed mind; all he could think about was everything he could do to her: to touch, to feel, to taste, to lick, to smell, to bite, to grind, to pound, to grab, to rub, to moan-! All he needed was those simple words… All he wanted was for her to say them. Those gentle few words…

"I'm asking… Make love ta me, Francis."

Those were the gentle words.

That was all he needed. No longer controlling his senses, France instantly threw her off to his side so she lied sexily onto the settee. Without any hesitation his drooling lips crashed onto her passionate own and brought his body on top of hers. The sudden movement caught her by surprise, but it didn't take long for her to adjust to his arms pinning her tightly down in an insane embrace. Success! Never breaking away, Francis stuck his tongue over her wanting cavity, but she was feeling more playful than she had intended, keeping her lips together in a forming smirk. It was going to take more than that for her to do what he wanted. He was the one who made her wait. Her playfulness only turned him on even more. Not bothering to fight, he removed his lips and threw them over her neck, biting down on her pressure point harshly, earning a yelp from her. France listened to the noises escaping her throat, growling himself at just how cat-like she had become.

"I can't take it, _ma ange_! _J'ai besoin de toi__si mal_!" He screamed drastically. How could she manage to do this to him?

"_Puis__me prendre_…" She purred back. She didn't speak fluent French, but she could understand what he wanted just by his tonne. God, his language sent such arousing chills through her body; she couldn't get enough of the risqué Frenchman!

"_Je l'aime quand__vous parlez français_!" France looked up and stared at her, almost hypnotised with her, as she finished speaking his national language. It was the first time he had heard her say she loved something, even better in French. Calming himself enough to find his senses again, he changed his position to kiss her again, opening her mouth beforehand and pressing his forehead onto hers.

"_Si c'est ce que__vous aimez, alors__je vais__obéir,__ma__belle fleur_." He pressed his wanting mouth firmly onto hers and slithered his tongue through, this time without any defence. She felt his slick, large muscle slide into her orifice skilfully, roaming around dominating her entire area, trying to taste every part of her. Still mischievous, Charlotte didn't fight to gain dominance, but instead locked his tongue into her mouth and began sucking it as if it were his member, slightly biting on him and making him heave with deep breaths through his nose. He didn't resist, but the sudden contact as he started massaging her waist made her groan huskily into the French kiss, vibrating his own pink length inside her. Her hands gripped tightly onto his shirt as he worked his tips around her slim stomach, making her own chest heave with anticipation. She let go of his tongue and he kissed her once again.

"_Tu es belle_," He breathed, kissing down her neck with each word, "_Tu es __merveilleuse__, tu es __tout ce que je__veux__, ma chérie_!" Every word of his French drove her crazy, even though she could barely understand what he was saying. Continuing from her neck, he left a trail of butterfly kisses down towards her chest. As he hit the Babylon, he gripped the loose black ribbon at the front with his teeth and pulled it apart, untying her feverish bosom. Just as he was going to begin his devoted attention onto her rosy buds, France was pushed off strangely by the dainty dame.

"Wait, France," Unlike the usual Charlotte, she was blushing about sex. In an even more rarity, she was embarrassed about something, covering her chest droopily and diverting her gaze from his.

"Is… Something wrong?" He questioned. Although his arousal was telling him to continue, he forced himself to wait patiently for her to answer.

"Is it okay if… I try something new?" Even though Charlotte had a lot of experience in the past, there was always one thing that she would shy away from. Slowly, she faced back to him, matching his alluring gaze with her bashful one, "I want to make you feel as good as you make me."

Without a word from the Frenchman, the Aussie pressed herself against him, making him sit back before her. With exhilarating pecks along his stubble, feeling as it pricked her skin, her hands expertly fondled with the buttons of his shirt and untucked it from his trousers before gliding it down his heated arms, not once unlocking her gaze from his gorgeous blue eyes. She started kissing over his chest and stomach like he had done to her, this time without licking or biting, until she reached down to the bulge in his uncomfortable clothing.

"I… haven't done this before, so please bare with me." She admitted sheepishly, "I want to share this first time with you." France astounded by her claim. Her first time to do what? Whatever it was, he was glad that she wanted to share it with him. Charlotte unbuckled his belt and ripped it off, then unzipped him and brought his standing member into the open. He hissed slightly at her touch, but didn't let her hear him. Before she began, she slipped her Babylon off and threw it aside.

"Can you lay back a little bit more, please?" She timidly ordered him. It was embarrassing how scared she sounded. It was as if she had never had sex before! Still she carried on as he obeyed her silently.

"If you are uncomfortable, zen please don't force yourself." Francis smiled, still not understanding her actions.

"I'm fine." Quickly gazing over the half-naked hunk, she dropped down and rested her breasts onto his thighs, indicating just what she was planning. She massaged herself for a moment, moving gently so her nipples tickled the base of Francis's member, and then gradually moved down onto him, pushing his throbbing length into her cleavage.

"Ah, Jarlotte! … Zat feels incredible!" He threw his head over the arm of the sofa and sighed approvingly. The words of praise made her feel better and so she pushed her body up and down in hope for a rhythm. It didn't take long before she had found a steady beat to move. Francis growled intimately at her pace, but her inexperience in this category showed; as good as it did feel, she was loose.

"Jarlotte… Try pressing them together…" He tried teaching her. Confused, she pushed her breasts closer, but only slightly. France tilted his head back up and smiled down to her.

"Zat's better, but try it like zis." He clamped his sweaty palms caringly onto her hands and forced them together onto himself, keeping her rhythm unfazed as her boobs sucked his length into their goddess like softness, clutching him close. When she had gotten used to the new pressure, he removed his hands and let her continue.

"How does it feel?" Charlotte soothed, slowly gaining confidence.

"_Extraordinaire_…" He seethed through. She looked down at her seizing breasts and noticed his tip edging just out of her, begging for attention. Charlotte obeyed to its demands, lowering her mouth as low as she could and started sucking it. Judging by the sudden jerk from her sex partner, it was something that made him feel even better than before.

"_Mon dieu_, Jarlotte! _Se sent si bon_!" Guessing that what he said was a compliment, Charlotte continued doing her tit-fuck until he felt him pulsing through her breasts. The sudden pulsation caused her to moan onto his member; it felt like his heart was hammering into her chest!

"Jarlotte, _Je vais_-!" With a split-second warning, she lowered herself as far as she could without the removal of her boobs and let him cum into her watering mouth. She let him go and faced him, with an epicurean smirk while she savoured and swallowed his seed, letting only a drop fall down her chin and over her reddened breasts. France reached out for her, stroking through her untidy locks and tugging at the base of her cat ears. Just to see his reaction, Charlotte purred for him. To Francis, the simple noise twisted him around to his kinky side, gradually leaning towards her while stroking her just as he would of a cat. In return, she continued purring. Even if it sounded fake, the purrs were her result from the touches he made to her sensitive scalp. She loved his touch so much…

"Francis… I want you to put it in me." She mewled, setting herself nearer to his lap. France stopped petting her and smirked gleefully.

"Oh? Is zat so, _mon chaton_?" Suddenly re-energised, Charlotte found herself being thrown back and twisted so her back faced him, "A pet should listen to zeir masters, no?" The ambiguous grin inched wider on his features, growing wider with each inch he moved closer to her ear.

"Put your 'ands on zee arm of zee sofa…" He ordered salacious. Growing aroused at the sudden domination, Charlotte followed his orders and placed her hands onto the arm, crouching herself onto all fours. Francis eyed over her sexual frame for a moment before holding her hips and grinding himself against her. The smell of her sweat coupling with the arousing growls started sending him over the edge; with a racing mind he started humping her, grabbing her ambrosial hips with one hand as the other traced the curve of her heavenly back.

"Ah, don't tease me!" She screeched as his length pressed against her butt. The movement of his hip alone was driving her mind crazy, but the taste of his tempting cum still resting in her mouth was almost like an aphrodisiac pumping her heart full-pelt only for the congenial blonde beauty. Like he had said, there was something different about this time around rather than their normal sex sessions and, whatever it was, she loved it. After a few more pumps on her delectable skin, France finally took his sheer weight off of her and grabbed himself, removing the little fabric of her thong and positioning his shaft into her entrance.

"_Êtes-vous prêt__, __mon cher_?" He fluently questioned. She couldn't understand him, but feeling only the tip of him inside her wasn't enough. She moved her own hip back, sheathing him slightly more and telling him to go. Complying her wishes he forced himself in. The thrilling screams she threw at him rang pleasurably through his ears; he was hitting the top of her! Instantly their pace began, rapidly slapping each other with sweaty bodies and groans as all their senses focused solemnly on one another. Charlotte could feel his nails digging through her hips as the metal of his trousers' zip bounced onto her clit with every thrust; France could feel the vibrations of each of her moans coarse through her body spectacularly. High on pleasure, France could barely keep his body prompt up anymore and fell onto her ostentatious back, curving himself in perfect fit and embracing her stomach. Not once did they give up their swift movement. As he rested his forehead against her shoulder, she could directly smell his cologne mixed with his musk; his scent was so addictive. She wanted to taste him excruciatingly. Lifting her head enough to carelessly throw her dishevelled hair at him, she breathed deeply and suppressed her moans just enough to talk.

"Francis!" She whined. She didn't understand why she wanted this, but there was one thing that the gem-eyed male had that she needed, "Francis! Kiss me!"

Surprised at her request, but not at all complaining, Francis lifted her upper body with his own, not letting his embrace waver. Quickly she turned her head just enough for him to reach her perked lips. The height difference and speed of their hips colliding caused him to miss at first and hit her nose, but the second attempt crashed their wanting features together. He tried getting her to open her mouth again, but as before she refused. There was no way he was waiting for her again. He forced himself harder onto her, getting her to open both mouth and eyes before she could even register it. Taking the opportunity, France forced his second length into her and dominated her. She had once tried fighting against him, but he was just too strong for her; too addictive. She would do anything for him; she only wanted him to do anything for her.

"_Ah__, __Jarlotte__, tu es __tellement incroyable_!" He spoke into the kiss. Ignoring his words, Charlotte used a hand to clamp onto his cheek and deepened it; she needed him. There was something so wonderful about his kisses, whether it is his talent or the strange electric spark which seemed to initiate during it, and she wanted to taste it all. Every last drop of his wine, every last texture of his French cuisine. Why did she feel so different when with France than when she was with any other guy? Suddenly she was twisted around on his cock, reaching her French lover wholly with one leg thrown over his shoulder. His face was twisted with passion. Swiftly he lowered their bodies again so that they lied on the dampened settee, slowing their movements, but deepening with each pump into her body. There was nothing that could describe the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, or anything which could explain her need to embrace his lanky body, but her actions helped calm her nerves down enough to try and comply what they wanted her to do. She kissed him over and over, clutching his shoulders in order to place herself into a better angle for him; she felt her body take him into a heated blanket and tightly hug him, letting her notice just how beautiful fit they were. The butterflies worked up a fury, followed by the elastic knot ready to break at any moment.

"Jarlotte… _Dis mon nom_… _Dis mon nom_!" She couldn't understand. Everything he had said to her… How much could she understand of it? Charlotte just continued kissing him recklessly, oblivious to his request.

"Say my name!" He growled quickly, earning her attention.

"Fr-Francis!" She exclaimed, "Francis… Francis… Francis!" He fell off the edge and was followed only seconds after. Clutching the settee arm as his muscles became rigid; he released himself into her as her perfect flower clung onto him in return until both of their bodies relaxed enough for him to collapse into her arms.

They lied together in harmony as both nations caught their breath again, resting their hearts as well as they could. Francis kept his ear placed carefully where her love muscle drummed, examining the musical beat with his own. They matched. He smiled lovingly and picked his chest up off of her and stared longingly into her dazzling orbs. The golden shine he adored so much was only for him as she returned the glance with just as much affection.

"Oh, Jarlotte…" This was the moment. They had made love; he could feel her emotions in their embrace and, for France, it was now or never, "_Tu es tellement belle_," He picked off her delicate hand from his body and kissed it, "_Tu es merveilleuse_," He pecked at her wrist and moved up a little more, "_Tu es intelligent_," He kissed her elbow, "_Tu es gentil_," Her shoulder, "_Tu es tout pour moi_…" Her neck. Finally he graced his lips along her own, only pecking them sweetly before carefully gazing into her sparkling eyes, "…_J'taime_."

* * *

**:3 Chapter 4... O_O Only two more chapters before I've caught up to the story! Fudge! I better get to writing again!**

**-xlilslayerx-**


	5. Confessions of Love

"Oh Jarlotte… _Tu es tellement belle_," He picked off her delicate hand from his body and kissed it, "_Tu es merveilleuse_," He pecked at her wrist and moved up a little more, "_Tu es intelligent_," He kissed her elbow, "_Tu es gentil_," Her shoulder, "_Tu es tout pour moi_…" Her neck. Finally he graced his lips along her own, only pecking them sweetly before carefully gazing into her sparkling eyes,

"…_J'taime_."

Charlotte's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't understand much of what he was saying, but she did understand that last part. At least, she hoped she heard him correctly.

"You… love me?" She slowly let escape her lips. France nodded, keeping his eyes locked delicately onto hers with hopeful patience.

"_Oui, J'taime tellement_." He couldn't move is gaze and she couldn't breathe. He loved her? She… didn't know what she could say now. Letting go of the confessed Frenchman, she pushed both of their cooling bodies up so they sat at a close distance, but Charlotte found that she couldn't match his gaze, turning her face to the side with a very sorrowful expression.

"Francis… If I had known then… I wouldn't have toyed with your feelings and slept with you." She whispered with despair. Why did this have to happen?

France quickly understood what she had meant. She didn't love him back… What he thought was making love was just her getting what she wanted again. He felt so used. But… There was something. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her actions throughout proved that she didn't feel absolutely nothing for him; she said she wanted to share her first time with him, she said that she wanted to kiss him, he could feel the love coarse through their bodies! Why was she rejecting that? Did he do something wrong? His widened, saddened gaze diverted to the floor as the awkward silence spilt in, leaving them both unable to speak; there was nothing to say. After what felt like eternity, Charlotte finally mastered up a sentence.

"I'm going to clear the spare room for you… Maybe it's best we go to bed." She stood up and headed for the living room door, not once looking back at him until she reached the frame. As she turned and faced him, he leaned over the edge of the seat and held his face in both hands, trying to not show the weakened side of him as his broken heart beat was wounded painfully. Charlotte wanted to hold him, tell him that she was sorry and that everything was going to be alright… But she knew that he would just turn her away and give her a cold shoulder. She wanted to cry. How would that mend their relationship? She flat out rejected him. She hurt him. Only earlier that day did France tell her that he never wanted to see her hurt; the same was vise versa. If only she had told him that. Breaking her glance away from his distraughted frame, she walked out of the awkward atmosphere and closed the door.

"It's America all over again…" She whispered, slowly letting one tear escape.

France couldn't believe that she had rejected him. He was so sure by how she looked at him, how she treated him, how she kissed him and embraced him that she had loved him in return. His senses were never wrong! He was the country of love, and he could see love a mile away; was he really just blinded by fantasy rather than reality? He turned to where she had stood only to watch her close the door behind her.

"It's America all over again…" America? What did America have to do with this? It was true that the younger nation had once not too long ago spoken to him about Charlotte… warning him about her emotions.

"_Don't let your feelings mix up," He ordered, gazing harshly into the Frenchman. It wasn't like him to act so seriously; why couldn't he tell him just why he was saying this about her?_

"_You'll soon realise that she doesn't see things the same way as lovers do."_

Now he understood what Alfred had meant. She didn't see sex as love, but as pleasure. He mixed up his own feelings between this and convinced himself that Charlotte wanted him for love instead of pleasure, and now he was paying the price for not heeding Alfred's warning. Just what had happened between them two to make Alfred feel this way?

* * *

**The next morning**, Charlotte woke up to find herself feeling incredibly lonely; this was the first time she had France over and he didn't sneak into her bed during the night. The calmly placed silken sheets remained untouched on one side, almost devastated that they had no one to caress that night. Of all the terrible things that could have happened… Charlotte was half tempted to tell him that she did love him, but if he ever found out that she had lied to him, it would be even worse than now; he'd never forgive her. She needed to do something. There was no way she was just going to let things break apart! She didn't know what love felt like, but there was something in her heart that told her that she didn't want to lose him and she didn't want their friendship to dampen, weaken and then destroy. She needed to explain her inability to love; maybe then he could find a way to understand and forgive her. The very last thing she could ever want was for Francis to hate her. Just the thought hurt her stomach and heart like a knife stabbing her repeatedly.

"Please don't hate me." She whispered, placing her arm over her eyes in hope to stop any of her tears spilling, "I don't want you to ever hate me!" Her breathing became rapid and deep as the fresh liquid tried all it could to fight against her. Thankfully none of them did succeed, leaving Charlotte whimpering on her bed in desolation.

France stood outside her bedroom and listened to her sorrow. She thought that he'd hate her for rejecting him… She was so silly. There was no way he could ever hate her. He was in grief for his broken heart, but he couldn't hate her; they had been best friends for so long. She was the only one who stuck by him through thick and thin and he wasn't going to let that change for the world.

Clutched in his hands was a reasonably sized breakfast tray carrying two plates of fine morning food for himself and his host, made by him in order to patch things up before the day began, but he was unsure it was such a good idea to talk to her. Now, it had been clear that the last thing she wanted was for him to ignore her, so following her wish he held the tray in one hand and knocked on the door.

"Jarlotte, _mon cherié_? Can I come in?" Francis waited patiently for an answer, succeeding on receiving a mellow 'yes' from the other side of the woodwork, allowing him to open it and face the gloomy gal glum on the bed.

"I made you some breakfast." He gradually entered, closing the door behind him and placing the tray onto her bedside table, "I zought we could eat togezer." Although he was trying to smile at her and glance kindly into her eyes, she only diverted her own gaze away from wherever he stood and curled up miserably.

"_Ma belle_, won't you please look at me?" She was acting childish. Usually it would be the one who had gotten rejected who would be curled up crying, not the rejecter. The fallow haired girl just shook her head and placed it into her knees.

"You hate me now, don't you? I don't deserve your food." France stared at her with a questionable gaze. Why was she beating herself up about this?

"Of course not, _mon cherié_!" Carefully he sat down next to her on the silken sheets, grazing his hand over their smooth touch before comparing it to the cheek of the red-faced beauty beside him, "If hating you was zee only way I could live another day, I would happily die for you." Such honesty through his words… Charlotte couldn't help but turn just enough so one of her shimmering fallow eyes could stare into France's handsome features. If he was lying, he'd show it in his face, but nothing told her in his truthful smile that he didn't mean what he said. Taking the gradual turn to him as a positive sign, France tested his zone and threw his arms around her into a gracious squeeze. She was just too adorable.

"Also, zere is no one I'd razer cook for then you. If you don't eat my food, it would make me really sad." He leaned over the ball of a girl and grabbed one of the forks, filling it with food and vigilantly grabbing her chin, "Come on, open wide~, _ma ange_!" Earning a diminutive smirk, the Aussie gently opened her lips and uncoiled her legs, dropping them down over the edge of the hefty bed. As promised, France placed the fork of deliciousness into her graceful mouth, onto her subtle tongue. She closed her eyes and savoured the wondrous taste.

"There's no one's cooking I'd rather eat." She candidly admitted. The blonde narcissist smiled amorously and brought over the food tray, sitting it in between them both.

"That makes me 'appy, _mon cherié_. It's my turn now, no?" He passed over the other fork and leant forward, hoping that she wouldn't start shying away from him. To his enjoyment, she took out a forkful of the beautifully presented meal, bringing it towards his face with a childish gleam.

"Then open wide." She pushed herself forward and placed the food into his mouth. As she done so, accidently her other hand had contacted with the hand which France prompt himself up on. She threw it back, almost too quickly, like his body was burning her. This wasn't liked by the Frenchman at all; the melancholy and hurt reflected through his features incredibly, bringing the guilt flooding back into the Aussie speedily.

"Please, Jarlotte, your rejection doesn't change anything!" France threw himself over the tray and onto her shoulders, forcing his hold to close her in as his forehead rested on her heart, "Don't treat me any different… Please don't shy away from me."

"I don't want to hurt you." He could feel just how hard it was becoming for her to hold back her tears; he could hear it in her voice.

"You will only 'urt me if you no longer see me as your best friend. I love to feel your touch; I love to 'ear your 'eartbeat, your voice and your laugh. Without you 'appy, I'm not 'appy. If you 'urt yourself by pushing yourself away, then 'ow do you zink it will make me feel?"

Charlotte was only quiet to contemplate his words. This was why she realized the difference between making love and having sex in the first place; to think about Francis's feelings. Now, she was being selfish yet again.

"It'll hurt you much more than it would hurt me…" She sighed.

"Zat's right." After a few moments, she twisted her body around, placing her hands gently onto his back to keep him in place.

"I like it when you hold me, Francis. And, I like it when you kiss me. I like it when you cook for me, when we're talking and when we're hanging out together. I don't get it really, but it makes me feel weird; kind of fuzzy really." Although France didn't make it obvious by budging from his place on her breast, he opened his eyes wide, listening carefully as her heart picked up its pace even more with every word she said. That was strange… She said that she didn't love him, so why was her body reacting as if she did?

"Jarlotte… Can I ask you somezing? It may be a delicate subject." She lifted him off of her and stared deeply into his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Go on then."

"What…" How was he going to ask this? What if it was a harsh subject that she wished that he didn't know about? However the situation, it was a part of Charlotte that he needed to know, or she may never understand her emotions and never fall in love with him, "What… 'appened between you and America? I 'eard you last night say it was 'America all over again'. 'E also warned me about you when you brought 'im back on our date night. Zere is somezing you two are 'iding."

Charlotte paled incredibly. He had heard her… And that was what Alfred wanted to talk to him about that day? That hurt her to know that he thought that she was going to hurt him the same way as- Oh… she did. France quickly noticed the discomfort shadowing her and regretted the question.

"If it is such a bad topic zen-"

"No… Perhaps it is best if you know. Maybe you'll understand better. It's a long story though, so at least sit more comfortably." He hesitated silently, but obliged, letting her go and climbing next to her as she removed the trays back onto the bedside table. With a deep breath to begin with, she grabbed Francis's hand close to her and began.

"It was a really long time ago. Too long. It was also just before we had met. America had just finished declaring his independence from England, and so I had gone to see him…"

_Alfred sat at his desk and finished signing the last of his revolutionary documents, sighing at the work he had to complete now that he was a free country. It was lonely and cruel without England at his side anymore, but it was something that had to be done. The ache of his chest was a pain which he had gotten used to over the past few months fighting with his guardian, the pain of ripping apart something which he enjoyed as a child. There was no one who would take care of him anymore; he was independent and had to live as such. He put down his quill and leant back into his seat, turning enough to watch through the side window. It was a gloomy day; perfect for the gloomy man in his office. So many lives were lost at war… The young country knew that at least their efforts were not wasted and that the new found life will prove to be a successful time. As his gaze followed those of innocence working incredibly in order to build their new civilization away from the British forces, there was one single person his gazed turned to; a single woman who made his eyes widen with shock as she walked towards his building. He knew that girl so well, but how many years had it been since they had last seen each other? Her glossy fallow hair was packed up tightly into a high bun, keeping it as neat as the clean uniform she wore of the Australian military, and her eyes still as sharp yet kind and beautiful as he had remembered. She hadn't changed, but now that he was so much bigger, he could fully comprehend the beauty of her golden tanned skin in the darkness of the cloudy atmosphere. Charlotte… But why was she here? She was still a part of the British Empire and shouldn't be seeing him for any true matter. Did she want to fight in honour for Britain? Her succulent figure exited his gaze quickly as she entered into the building, only until a few minutes later when he heard the predictable knock on his door._

"_America, sir, a young woman named Miss. Charlotte is here to see you. She said it was urgent and that you knew her." The guard politely addressed the Nation._

"_Send her in." America ordered. Why did she address herself as Charlotte rather than Australia? The guard nodded and ushered her through, closing the door as she entered. As graceful as he had remembered her to be, she waltzed in and brought a sense of dignity with her. She resembled England with poise, but nothing else. That was why he liked her; although she had been influenced by the British the same way he had been, they both had much more in common than she did with England._

"_G'day, Alfred." She smiled kindly, taking a few steps towards his desk. However, she stopped as he stood up and took steps towards her instead. Charlotte couldn't help but stare and audibly gasp at just how tall and handsome he had become._

"_Hey, Charlotte. It's been a long time." He smiled back. It was surprising that he did actually remember who she was considering the last time she had seen him was when he was a young child. England had brought her over to America's place only a handful of times when he had the time to visit her at her place, and then ship her over with him. He had grown so much since back then. When she had heard of his declaration of independence, she was sure that he was still a young boy and that he would have no chance against the British; she couldn't have been more wrong. _

"_Come, sit down and I'll get us some coffee." Alfred welcomed her in, letting her sit down on his desk chair while he quickly spoke to someone outside about the bitter drink. Accepting his chair, she sat and leant back. She wasn't there for merry-making and catching up; she wanted to form a peace and trade treaty before anything kicked off between them. He managed to beat England; there was no way she would be able to look after her young siblings and fend him off if something was to happen. That was the first reason anyway. The second was a request from England himself, although America wasn't allowed to know this, he entrusted her to make sure that his country started well and without difficulty. England didn't want to admit it, but he was proud that America had grown up so strong and wanted him to be happy with his newly found independence. After a short time, Alfred returned with two mugs full, handing one of them over to her and then sitting on the edge of his desk._

"_Thank you. Ya know, I'm surprised ya remember me, ta be honest, Alfred. It's been such a long time after all."_

"_I could never forget you're pretty face! Uh… I mean…" Damn it, he had already messed up! She was always so caring when she had come over to play with him… and so beautiful…_

"_Aw, ya sure are sweet, aren't ya?" She giggled, "You've grown to become such a fine young man, Al." Successfully dodging a discomfited beginning, Alfred inwardly sighed in relief and thanked her. For a while, all they did was talk about their country's plans, reminisce and drink their creamy coffee. It felt nice to have some company to cheer him up after the war. _

"_So what did you need anyway, Char? I doubt you came all this way just to give me some company." America placed his coffee cup down and leant towards her with a gleaming smile, one which was instantly matched by the astonishing female._

"_Well, as much as I enjoy the company, you are right; there is a reason I came here." She began, copying her partner's actions by placing the coffee down and leaning towards him, "I have a proposition for ya. Firstly, I congratulate your newly formed independence. As an independent country now, you will have to find a way to import and export goods that your country, as well as the world's wealth, can trade. Also an independent country, if it is not governed properly, you are a target for other, larger countries-"_

"_I doubt there are many countries that want to fight me! After all, I will become the hero of this country, then the hero of the world!" He laughed with pride. All Australia could think was how young and clueless he still was._

"_America." She sternly scowled him, "This is a serious matter. You are still inexperienced with the world. You had England, myself and I believe another country that had made sure you were protected as you had grown, along with the rest of the British Empire. I know that you feel that independence is the key to a life of freedom, but freedom also means responsibility. That responsibility is to make sure no one tries to take away your freedom." Alfred didn't say anything. All he could do was sit quietly and listen to her. This was business that she was trying to tell him about, as well as the trade of becoming a stronger nation._

"_Ya may not be a part of the British Empire anymore, but I still care for ya deeply and the last thing I want is to see ya hurt." She… cared for him? What did she mean by caring for him? Did she love him or something? That was strange; why would she care for him after all he had done to England?_

"_So, I want us to create an alliance. Ya will still have your independence, but in the case of war my army will quickly come to aide your side. I also think we should make a trading agreement; this way we can buy and sell products such as weapons and food, keeping both of our economies as stable as possible. What do ya think?"_

_She wanted to make an alliance. This was the first time he had to make such a decision which would affect the rate of his nation for future years. She was right; he had to burden such a big responsibility now. Was it a good idea to continue trading with a country of the British Empire? Although, England and Australia didn't spend a lot of time together, leaving Australia to becoming basically her own independent country anyway. She had experience; she was wise; she could help him keep in the guidelines as he learnt how to keep the people of his home well and economically stable._

"_Ya don't need to answer me right now. Just remember that my offer stands. Ya can wait until you have built up your home and found a steady time where it is easier to begin this sort of life; just remember my words. Ta' for having me here." Charlotte stood from the chair and headed for the door, only to be pulled back as her arm was swiftly grasped by the taller nation._

"_Char, please don't go just yet. I won't accept or decline your proposal yet, but would you just help me with the first stepping stone and stick around for a little bit? It's obvious you know what you're doing, and I could really do with someone who isn't bias to help me out." Staring at her with pleading eyes, Australia felt compelled to agree. He may have grown big and strong, but America was still an inexperienced kid. She couldn't just leave him to fend himself against the world; there was so much he needed to be taught. There were only one country who had to go by alone that she could think of and he wouldn't be so stupid to attack without reason, but try and slowly build his way over America until his economical values drops; China would find a way to take America's land without him noticing rather than by war. These were the sort of things he needed to learn before he agreed to any treaties that other nations project to him. Perhaps it would have been wise for her to teach him the ropes before she returned home…_

"And that was what I had done. I taught Alfred about countries he should work with, who he should look out for, how he could keep his economy from collapsing, etc.. Before I knew it, I had stayed with him for so many months and my boss was starting to get worried that my absence would be taken advantage of, so I had to return home…"

"_I'm sorry, Al, but I've been away far too long. I have my own country to look after too, ya know." She sighed. He was clinging to her way too tightly now. Although the last few months had shown to be a brilliant time, watching as his home grew all around them both, she had to get home. What she didn't understand, however, was why her sudden announcement caused the younger nation to spring to her and grab her forcefully into a close grip. _

_He didn't want to let her go. It had only taken those short months for the strong nation to fall in love with her. She was perfect for him; beautiful, stunning, amazing, he didn't care that she was so much older than him. He wanted her to become his before she disappeared. It could have become years, decades, centuries before he could see her again; he needed to tell her just how he felt before that could ever happen. He needed to show her just how much he appreciated her help._

"_Char, please don't go yet… Or at least just let us enjoy one last night together before you go. Please?" Begging didn't suit him at all. Maybe one more night wouldn't have been too bad; she could tell her boss that she was delayed._

"_Alright, fine. One more night. But I have ta leave tomorrow morning, got it?" America lifted his head off of her shoulder and faced her with the most sparkling eyes she had ever witnessed along with the most childish grin, like a kid on Christmas day. _

"_Ah perfect, thank you!" Before he could stop himself, America forced himself forward, pecking the sweet woman on the lips. His sudden contacted shocked the girl beyond her senses; but she could feel how warm yet coarse his bitter-tasting lips were against her own. It wasn't at all an unwelcomed taste, or an unwelcomed kiss; it only shocked her for the diminutive moment he had done it. Judging by his bewildered expression, coupled with the rubbing of his nose from where they had bumped together, he was just as stunned that he had done that as she was._

"_Ah, I-I'm sorry, Char! I don't know what came over me…" He tried explaining with the overly exaggerated arm movements he had come accustom to using. Charlotte pressed her lips warily, but only smiled to the lofty man in a childish nature._

"_It's quite alright, Al, I understand." She giggled. She… accepted his kiss? That was a good sign, wasn't it? Such an endearing feature to her already striking face was that smile of hers… He began remembering back when he was still so young and in the care of France; he would teach him about what it was like to be in love: what you would notice, what you would feel, what you wanted to do to the person… After a while, his perverted guardian got carried away with his teachings, leaving the young Alfred blinding away any strange things that looked weird, or muting the things he really didn't want to hear about mainly because he didn't understand what he was talking about. But, after a few years, the blonde elder's words began, unfortunately, sticking in his mind; only now could he really understand the concept of love which he had always told him about. Tonight he was going to put France's lessons to use and tell her… show her, just how much he loved her._

* * *

_**The night came by**__ quickly and America felt a little under unprepared. He was sweaty and nervous, taking in way too much caffeine with the countless cups of coffee he had chocked down that day. After a while, even Charlotte could notice something wrong. Every time she tried getting him to open up what was bothering him, he would just brush her off or change the subject. Could he not tell that she was genuinely worried about him? Although he was like this during the day, as soon as they had gotten back home and relaxed a little, he found himself growing more comfortable in her presence, calming both of them down enough to enjoy the peace of the wondrous moon rising in the overcast sky. They were both sprawled out on Alfred's bed, warming up adequately by the picturesque fireplace as they giggled together with an alcoholic drink in hand. The evening was radiant for both countries with the strangest atmosphere between them both._

"_Ah… It's so warm in here; it's perfect!" The Aussie stretched out her limbs and collapsed face-first into the pillows where the younger man casually sat._

"_Yeah…" Was his smart reply. Unsatisfied with his short answer, Charlotte turned her face towards him and pouted._

"_Seriously, what's been wrong with ya today?" She poked his side childishly, only to get a reaction she really didn't expect. As soon as her finger pressed his stomach, he keeled over with a grin, grabbing where she had poked quickly in order to stop her from doing it again. However, his motions were too exaggerated just to ignore. Trying again, she poked the same place, only this time she changed her tactic and scratched down his side, earning an obscure mix between a yelp and a laugh. At her sudden touch, the dirty-blonde haired jumped away from her to the other side of the bed and gave her a blushed look that sort of tried telling her to keep away. Realisation struck her like a tonne of bricks._

"_Al… Are ya… ticklish?" When he refused to answer her, a huge devilish grin forced its way upon the older girl's phizog. She climbed up onto all fours and faced the curled up man, hungry for teasing._

"_Wait… What are you doing, Char? No, please, wait!" He couldn't stop her. She pounced at him, straddling him in order to pin him down and instantly went for his muscular sides. The instant her hands rapidly stirred across him, he burst out in laughter, trying as hard as he could to control his giggling fit long enough to fight against her but he found himself completely helpless under her. He ended up laughing so hard that it had begun to hurt; it even started the daring gal off as she watched the sheer pleasure twist in his face after so long without being able to laugh so hard. He needed his revenge or she was going to wear him down completely! Mastering all the strength he could, he twisted her over quickly, straddling her so the tables had turned. Before she could get any words of protest out, America threw her shirt up to uncover her creamy stomach and started attacking her own sides with his hands._

"_No! No fair, Americ-AH!" She burst out into a fit of chuckling as his much larger hands bounced across her stomach. Her luscious skin was so smooth… Such sexy curves… As she laughed her entire body vibrated under him… It felt so good. Before he knew it, America's tickles calmed down into more of a massage, focusing on the luxurious texture of her incredible skin as her rapid breathing deepened to a flawless, sexy breath. Her hair still sat in her bun, but every here and there a strand had broke free, making it so alluringly messy and framing her reddened face from the lack of air… He couldn't get enough of her… Her face was turned to the side, exposing her divine neck. There was something he wanted to do to that neck, as if he wanted to taste it. Such a strange feeling. _

"_Al… As good as that feels," She breathed at his pleasant touch, "What are you doing?" Lifting her head up, she brought her gleaming fallow eyes upon Al's precious blue, letting them shimmer kindly just for him. Something snapped. Alfred could no longer stop himself. Quickly diverting his glance from her treasured orbs to her velvety neck, he lowered his rugged lips onto her skin, kissing it and sucking without a second thought for the girl._

"_Al! What are you-"His hands continued to massage her stomach, edging ever so slightly wider after every stroke; his tongue started to trace over a small spot on her neck that felt too good. Hitting that spot caused unintentional growls which the younger couldn't miss… They sounded so arousing… _

_Suddenly, Alfred stopped every one of his movements and became rigid. Charlotte, at first confused, tried to budge herself from his weight, but the motion of her hip as she tried wriggling free unveiled a hidden secret to the, no longer confused, nation._

"_Alfred… Are ya…?" She bucked her hip to make sure, proving her accusation as the blonde nation growled into her neck. Sitting just on her lust was the forming bulge she was so used to; there was no way she could ever mistake a man's growing stimulation._

"_I'm sorry, Char… It seems that I can't stop." Speeding up, America threw his hands up and into her shirt, grabbing both of her rotund breasts in each of his tepid hands. She couldn't hold back the stunned gasp as he did so and as he picked up on her neck and started biting down on her shoulder. However, his bites were rough as his grabs were soothing; he was still green behind the ears. With a slight giggle, Charlotte pushed onto his hands from the top of her fabric, squeezing them and pressing down harder to accelerate the contentment which shot through her body. She moaned softly at his touch, though inexperienced, he wasn't too shabby. His scent of his musk was weak to the Aussie, but nevertheless a tasteful smell; she loved the robust smell of a man. His hands worked peacefully away at her bosom, but only squeezing her full mount. His tongue roamed all around her stretched neck, spreading his saliva with so many kisses over every part of her. It was balmy and slippery, but it wasn't all she wanted his spit to caress._

"_Alfred…" She purred. God he loved it when she said his name like that, "Don't give my neck all the attention." Not fully understanding her request, he unclamped his mouth from her and stared hazily to her astonishing face. Without a word, she made his gaze travel down to her chest by drawing circles over the white fabric for his hands to feel. He cutely blushed as he stared, still slightly unsure. He tried pulling his hands out from her shirt, but her own hands clamped them down again._

"_Ah-uh. You'll have to find another way." She teased him. Damn her sex appeal was so strong against him; he could hardly stop himself from bucking into her while their hips were still locked together. _

"_Uh… How am I meant to unbutton your shirt if I can't use my hands?" He asked defeated and earning a small chuckle from Charlotte._

"_Here, lemme show you." Without the removal of her own hands, she pushed herself and the larger country up so he sat comfortably on her lap. Through her shirt she massaged his hands, causing the reaction so he would start groping her again while her own mouth stretched up and kissed his neck. It felt strange to him; he didn't realise that he would react the same at the same motion. But instead of working around his brawny collar, her teeth latched onto his top button, skilfully unlocking them one by one until she reached down to his stomach, then using her nose to remove the unwanted clothing from his chest. The feel of her nose over his skin tickled him, but at the same time it felt oddly good. She licked at his abs and chest, making him groan._

"_Whether it be man or woman," She whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "Right here…" Her tongue reached over his nipple, suddenly making his eyes tightly shut as the amazing electrical shock ran straight from his chest to his member, "…Will always be reactive." The brown haired continued to play with his nipples as they hardened under her tongue. He was so cute. Her breathing deepened through her nose and bounced of his skin, making him shudder under its contact._

"_Oh, fuck, Charlotte I can't take it anymore!" He whined. He was a lot stronger than her; as he worked against her vice-grip, it didn't take much to slide them out, but he did result in pushing her breasts fastly and strongly into her body, hurting her incredibly. She yelped in pain, catching his attention once again._

"_Did… Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, Charlotte, I didn't mean to!" Pouting, she rubbed her chest slowly to try and ease the pain._

"_A woman's chest becomes really sensitive when she's stimulated. There is no need to rush, Al; you'll get what you want soon enough." Her pout became a smirk as his face blushed apologetically. He was still a child after all, "Maybe ya should kiss them better…" She playfully pressed her boobs forward and forced his head down by grabbing the back of his neck, quickly placing his nose into her cleavage. After the sudden astonishment had passed, Alfred took a hold of her curvy slim back and drew sweet nothing with his tips, following with his mouth his partner's example and unbuttoning her shirt with his teeth. What he didn't realise, however, was that it was much harder than she had made it look. It was fiddly work; his teeth kept slipping off or the button would only go through half way, but she remained patient. She was calmly enjoying his touch, whether he was good or not. So caring. Finally he got the buttons completely undone, letting her shirt fall perfectly over her hardened rosebuds just to cover them from his sight, yet reveal her shallow cleavage. Using his nose, he removed the last of the shirt from her chest and letting him see just how aroused he had made her. _

"_Whether it be man or woman, huh?" He repeated her words before clutching his lips onto her erect nipples. She growled as he gently sucked her, running her hands through his shiny locks and taking in fistfuls to keep him just where he was._

"_Mm, that's perfect…" She sighed. The words of reassurance caused Alfred to try and experiment a little more. He took one hand up to the other of the pair and played with the pink plush, while the other drew a line from the top of her spine and down to the hem of her skirt, and back up again. She moaned into his scalp, telling him that he was doing well. As his hands and mouth switched positions, she lowered her own, much smaller hands onto the lap of Alfred, massaging his legs strong enough to feel him hiss onto her. Slowly, they worked their way up, grabbing his twitching length through the cloth of his trousers and rubbing it._

"_Oh my, Al, does my body really turn you on this much?" She teased, continuing her massage into his crotch. His growls became deep and husky; swiftly he threw her over to the side and crawled back on top of her, using his own hands to release his member from its cage and force her soft fingers to coil around it leisurely. He couldn't get enough of her. Wincing at her touch, he lowered his lips to hers, staying a hair's breath away from her._

"_It's you who turns me on…" He whispered, lowering his lips the last millimetres onto hers. With each movement her tongue entwined with his, her hand pumped swiftly, picking up speed as she soon became used to his length and feel. Inside his mouth he tasted bitter from the countless coffees he had devoured that day, but the feel of him in her hand wasn't like the chapped lips, or his rough hands; it was tender and amiable. Having such a beautiful feeling placed inside her was turning her head to the point where her sweet nectar was beginning to pour out of her body. She wasn't going to last much longer either. As she left one hand to work for him, she used the other to begin lifting her ankle-length skirt up to her stomach._

"_Al…" She moaned into his tongue. Once her skirt was up, she readied his member before her entrance and bucked onto him, sheathing him before he could realise it. The sudden warmth coiling him caused him to groan and buck the rest of the way into her involuntarily. His lips let go of hers and he rested his face onto hers, grabbing her hips and moving irregularly. Charlotte tried keeping a rhythmic pattern for him to follow, but he couldn't. After a while of the messy motion, he finally started to get the hang of a rhythm, one which matched his heart beat. As the older woman joined his thrusts, the pleasure between them heated exceedingly, throwing moans and screams of bliss all across their shared wave. He tucked his nose ecstatically into her loosening bun and smelt only her perspiring oceanic aroma, wanting nothing but to taste every part of her sweaty body and hear every perverted sound she could throw. She was so amazing at this; He could understand why France always spoke about it. Where his neck had stretched to reach her bun, she kissed down on the clammy skin and started sucking, making as many hickeys as she could. His pace quickened, slamming himself into her body with the force of a hundred men until he felt his release soon working up. _

"_Ah! Char… Charlotte!" He moaned into her ear. He felt in the pit of his stomach as his seed spread through his body and vehemently exited into her forbidden entrance. He stopped instantly and collapsed down onto her, still smelling her wondrous scent while removing himself from inside her frame. She started stroking along his broad back as they caught their breath. Not too long later, she could hear the light breathing of a young man drifting off to sleep._

"_Hey, Al, before ya go to sleep, can ya get off me?" She started struggling under his weight, trying her best to breath properly as it became dead weight above her._

"_Oh, sorry." Quickly he lifted himself off and sprawled down beside her, letting her sit up and begin heaving comically. Standing up from the heated bed, she stretched and straightened her skirt back down before grabbing her shirt and putting it on._

"_Well, I better start packing." She smiled to him. A look of horror suddenly presented itself over Alfred's features._

"_Wait, you're still going to leave? After this, you're leaving just like that?" He sat up and sorted out his own trousers, but not once taking his glance off of the standing nation._

"_Hm? Of course. I told you I needed to go tomorrow. Was this meant to change that?" She was a dense as England mentioned._

"_Of course it was! Didn't we do this because you love me back?" He exclaimed hurt that she would walk away._

"_Wait… Love you 'back'? You… love me, Alfred?" This was a shock. She turned around to him so her body faced his completely, her stunned face matching his own._

"_Y…Yes. I love you, Charlotte. A friend once told me that when you love someone, this is what you do to show it. This… was the first time I've done anything like this." He admitted diverting his gaze to the floor. No… She took his first time? Why would he give her his first time like that?_

"To this day I've wondered which idiot had told him that sex was the way to tell someone you loved them." She turned her head and questioned herself, leaving France unnoticed as he scratched the back of his head. Perhaps America misunderstood what he had meant…

_After what seemed like forever, the dazed look changed from Australia into a traumatizing anger._

"_You idiot! Why did you let me take your first time? You should have told me beforehand!"_

"_It doesn't matter does it? You return my feelings, right?" Somehow, America wasn't as sure as he was a few moments ago. She… did love him… right? There was no way Australia could tell him the truth without breaking his heart._

"_No, Al… I don't. I don't love you like that. I care for you, but I don't love you." She almost whispered her sentence. There was no other way than to tell him straight, "If I had known, then I would have made that clear a lot sooner." _

_America's heart broken into the millions. She was so caring and so kind; where was that Charlotte he knew? She had flat out told him that she didn't love him. After everything they had done together, after these past few months they had shared… And it was only because she 'cared' for him, not because she loved him. He dropped his head in shame and embarrassment, covering his brow with his drooping golden locks._

"_Perhaps it'll be better if you left now." He coldly stated. Australia didn't say anything. What could she say? Instead she exited his bedroom without a single glance back, wanting the world to just swallow her whole so she could disappear forever._

"I broke his heart when he was so sure that I was the right one for him. He wasn't the first person to confess to me, but he was the first who I had shared such a deep relationship with before sleeping with. Like him, I was certain of my partner's feelings before I decided to take them to bed… and like him, I was wrong." She stared over at France and dropped his hand from her chest, "I was so sure that there was no way you could fall in love with me. After all, you had so many women at your feet that I thought I'd just be another one of them."

"You zought I couldn't be in love wiz just one person?" When she shook her head to confirm his statement, he couldn't help but feel distressed. He was at fault on that one; how many women did he tell that he loved and meant it? He was such a fool... But she was by far the bigger fool.

"Can I tell you something that I've never told anyone before?" There gaze met in security, indicating for her to continue.

"I… I've never been in love before. I guess some could say I have Philophobia. Maybe it's not as harrowing as a phobia, but I'm always scared that if I fall in love that I will hurt the person… Or they will hurt me. I can't control my lust; I've slept with countless of people, just like you and I don't trust myself to only be with one person."

"You've never been in love?" That was it. That was why she was reacting as if she did love him, but rejected it; she didn't know that she loved him. Relief washed through him reassuringly. Her heart beat for him and she openly admitted that she liked his touches and kisses; that 'fuzzy' feeling she was experiencing was the love she had for him! He felt like he could cry in contentment. The only problem was how he was going to prove to her that love was nothing to fear?

"If you 'ave never been in love, zen who took your virginity? Did you not love 'im?" He contemplated. Again, she shook her head.

"My first time was with a Dutchman. I was really too young; I didn't know what was happening. It all happened before England found me. As I grew older and began to understand, I realized that his words of reassurance was just him getting his way. He never came back for me like he had promised." France was heartbroken for her. She was used, just like he had felt after she rejected him. This was probably why she had an incapability of falling in love and separating love from passion. Overcoming this fear was going to prove difficult, but for his love he would do anything to convince her of her feelings.

"Ah, _mon cherié_, I finally understand!" He claimed surprising the Aussie, "And I'm not 'appy one bit. You cannot live without_ l'amour_! So I…" Suddenly, he stepped down from the bed, grabbing the bewildered girl's hand and knelt before her, "… I will show you what love is. I will shower you with so much affection that you will realize soon enough 'ow much you love me." He kissed her silky skin and smiled up to her, excited for his newly found challenge. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help but giggle at the giddy Frenchman.

"And how, may I ask, do you plan on doing that, _monsieur_?" He picked his body up and leant over her, placing both hands onto the bed to tower above her with a hungry glint in his eye.

"Zat, _ma belle_, is a secret." Having gotten to the bottom of her emotions, France finally leant forward far enough to entwine his lips into hers, showing her the true passion as the beginning of his guide to falling in love.

* * *

**This... Was my last written chapter... Fudge. I better get back to writing, but college has kept me busy so I haven't been able to think enough to write. I hope you lovely readers can be patient for me! I promise I'll get up and about with writing once more as soon as I can.  
**

**-xlilslayerx-**


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